Luyện nghe bài hát Symposium Of Sickness

That's why I it so amusing
That the Latter-day Saints of our
One, attribute to me motives just weren't there
And two accuse me of morality
Which I I had the power to do, prepare to die

An encloaking, dark
In which all life is now
Another valueless
On which the paracious may graze

homage to their mammon
Whilst the is the music of the meek
Transcendence a beatifully brutal reality
Is I seek

Noxious, dolour
Is not the sentiment upon we feed
But consciousness
out a morbid nous to bleed

Chiselling out words
cut deep down to the bone
Always
So be it on our own

Rising to out own
Reality we try to
to raise a twisted smile
Similar to that silver

On a which is joined
Hammering in each final
Last kill and
Left now

Noxious, sully
Is not the thesis which is
A precarious of thought
In which mental are led

Carving out skilful
Which brittle bones
Always out well
We just can't leave the alone

text
A terminal doctrine of diseased minds
Enunciated
Eschatological, requiems

Always our own cynics
of scorching scorn
Digging our own
But never over and mourn

The now pandemonium
Displaced in the sods
Espoused the macabre
The we filch and rob

Munificant
the deviants staid

Execrations, spiritual release
Exoneration, upon the we feast
Excogitation, picking at the of convention
Exculpitation, verbal conflagration

Epigraphic text, a vex
The macabre perplexed, with meshed

Euthenic
An unpleasant journey to a perplexed
epigraphs
Eschatological

Always cryptic
of twisted grief
Helping you to dig up the
fresh still are the wreaths

The harmony now
Heard out in the muddy
Espoused the bizzare
We on our own turf

text
A macabre perplexed

Execrations, literary tales of fairy
Exoneration, harsh, cold bloody
Excogitation, a narcissistic
Exculpitation, perverse artworks, so

Monographic text, a vex
The macabre perplexed with meshed