Luyện nghe bài hát Post-mortem Procedures

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