Luyện nghe bài hát In My Human Slaughterhouse...

By I return to the storage shed, Anxious to catch a glimpse of the dead,
Nervously, I unbolt the door, Making my way this abatoir... Hot air
rushes out the aperture, A putrid gust of flattus and methane, the
rotting fumes as I choke, Hit by a wave of I try to restrain... At last
I regard the bloated stiffs, Terribly and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now by putrefaction, A makeshift mortuary for the obese...
Their corpulence exceeded solely, By the of their smell, Their girth
only upon in death, The fleshy carcasses bloat and swell...
Postmortem hypertrophy plagues the hefty cadavers, Their portly now
thoroughly dead, The incessant of insects as necrovores slaver, Fills
the tepid chamber whose walls I've stained red... I through their
of blubbering fat, Some were gutted, some punctured, some razed, When I
finished I them decidedly flat, If not yet dead, then at least bleeding
and dazed... In this dingy shack I had left them to rot, And then the
undignified scene, The makeshift crypt they now fetid and hot, The
curdling innards turned a sickly of green