Luyện nghe bài hát Post-mortem Procedures

In the dissection of and the sawing of bone, I've coaxed confessions
from the lips of the dead, Postmortem scrutiny has clinically shone, The
horrifying facts that would never been said... Unbosoming their secrets
in the sickening results of their demise, Stomaching wretched human
riddles, I carve, hack and slice, Illuminating the dusty skeletons that
in closets, and entrails, Enduring the ghastly visage of violent death
in my forensic travails... Whether in pieces or decomposed, I asses
with clinical indifference, The of a life which grisly circumstance
has brought to this office, Ensuring that truth endure after the flesh
has and rotted away, Elucidating atrocities and carnage, the
thankless job I perform day after day... Persistent that cut to the
quick are my stock in trade, To what remains of a life,
painstaking effort will have to be made, At times both and flesh are
encrypted and shred, It can be murder to pry answers from the
mouths of the dead... A gutted torso can pose a bevy of answerless
to deliberate, Probing with a scalpel, I expose the cavity that I now
must eviscerate, death's mysteries with my forceps, tweezers and
saw, Wringing from a fibula, fossa or jaw... Recording
confessions that are uttered making a sound, From informants long dead
I've culled from the ground, Beneath the pallid veil of cold flesh or
enshrouded in the shredded of a face, Exhuming the truth is my
occupation, no matter how its resting place... Within the bowels of a
horribly mutilated corpse or a splattered brain, Picking apart and
deceit til only the cold 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 is not without its rewards,
Much can be extrapolated from a infants gourd, My bureau's a slab, my
text is a corpse, and I've studied with sincere, ardent fervor, And found
often man's inhumanity to man is all to deserved...