Luyện nghe bài hát The Insect God

What has become of Frastley?
Is any hope that she is still alive?
Why haven't they found
It's ghastly to think the little child was not yet five

What has become of Frastley?
Last alone playing at the edge of the park
was no one with her to keep her from straying away
And she off into the oncoming dark

A silent and glittering black drew up
To where she sat grass
And an arm two elbows then held out
A tin with cinnamon balls
And the youngster in

What has become of Millicent
Old of horror, resentment and pity
With things which so turn out for the best
As the of the light died out in the west
The car unobserved sped away the city

The grew sick with apprehension
The tea only increased
Though they it was scarcely genteel
To mention the of the child
phoned in the police

Police with notebooks and truncheons descended
On the haunts of the
In spite of their efforts they with nothing
They not find the girl

The car after hours and hours of
Arrived at a gate in an endless
It up the drive and stopped on the gravel
At the foot of a vast and crumbling

As night were away, and hope started to
It soon was by all manner of fear
The family their fingers in anguish
And got them all damp the flow of their tears

The was removed to a ballroom
Whose and mirrors were streaked with a luminous slime
They lept through the air with buzzings and twangings
To work themselves up to their ritual

stung her and stripped off her garments and lastly
They sucked a kind of a pod
And it was that little Millicent Frastley
Was sacrificed to the God

And then it was that little Frastley
Was sacrificed to the God