Luyện nghe bài hát Post-mortem Procedures

In the dissection of flesh and the sawing of bone, I've coaxed
from the lips of the dead, Postmortem that has clinically shone, The
horrifying facts that would never been said... Unbosoming their secrets
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, the ghastly visage of violent death
in my forensic travails... Whether in or completely decomposed, I asses
with clinical indifference, The remnants of a life which circumstance
has to this office, Ensuring that truth shall endure after the flesh
has crumbled and rotted away, atrocities and carnage, the
job I perform day after day... Persistent incisions that cut to the
quick are my stock in trade, To scrutinize remains of a life,
painstaking effort will have to be made, At times both evidence and are
profoundly and shred, It can be murder to pry answers from the
of the dead... A gutted torso can pose a bevy of answerless questions
to deliberate, Probing with a scalpel, I expose the morbid cavity I now
must eviscerate, Unlocking mysteries with my forceps, tweezers and
saw, Wringing revelations from a fibula, or jaw... Recording
confessions that are uttered without a sound, From informants long dead
that I've culled from the ground, Beneath the veil of cold flesh or
enshrouded in the shredded of a face, Exhuming the truth is my
occupation, no matter how decrepit its resting place... the bowels of a
horribly corpse or a splattered brain, Picking apart flesh and
til only the cold facts remain, Dead men will tell tales if you know
how to listen and learn, Even when been stabbed, beaten, shot, hacked
up and burned... This morbid quest for knowledge is not its rewards,
Much can be extrapolated from a decrepit gourd, My bureau's a slab, my
text is a corpse, and studied with sincere, ardent fervor, And found that
often man's inhumanity to man is all to deserved...