Luyện nghe bài hát Post-mortem Procedures

In the dissection of and the sawing of bone, I've coaxed confessions
from the lips of the dead, scrutiny that has clinically shone, The
horrifying facts that would have never been said... Unbosoming their
in the sickening of their demise, Stomaching these wretched human
riddles, I carve, hack and slice, Illuminating the dusty that lurk
in closets, bones and entrails, Enduring the ghastly visage of violent
in my travails... Whether in pieces or completely decomposed, I asses
with clinical indifference, The remnants of a life grisly circumstance
has brought to this office, Ensuring truth shall endure after the flesh
has crumbled and away, Elucidating atrocities and carnage, the
thankless job I perform day after day... Persistent that cut to the
quick are my stock in trade, To scrutinize remains of a life,
effort will have to be made, At times both evidence and flesh are
profoundly encrypted and shred, It can be to pry answers from the
mouths of the dead... A gutted torso can pose a bevy of answerless
to deliberate, Probing a scalpel, I expose the morbid cavity that I now
must eviscerate, Unlocking death's mysteries my forceps, tweezers and
saw, Wringing from a fibula, fossa or jaw... Recording
confessions that are uttered without a sound, From informants long dead
I've culled from the ground, Beneath the pallid veil of cold flesh or
enshrouded in the shredded of a face, Exhuming the truth is my
occupation, no how decrepit its resting place... Within the bowels of a
horribly mutilated corpse or a splattered brain, Picking apart and
deceit til only the cold facts remain, Dead men will tell tales if you
how to and learn, Even when they've been stabbed, beaten, shot, hacked
up and burned... This morbid for knowledge is not without its rewards,
Much can be extrapolated from a decrepit infants gourd, My a slab, my
text is a corpse, and I've studied with sincere, ardent fervor, And that
often man's to man is all to well deserved...