Luyện nghe bài hát Symposium Of Sickness

That's why I it so amusing
That the Saints of our business
One, attribute to me motives just weren't there
And two me of corrupting morality
I wish I had the power to do, prepare to die

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

Indebted homage to their
the mort is the music of the meek
Transcendence from a beatifully brutal
Is I seek

Noxious, dolour
Is not the sentiment which we feed
But precocious
Draws out a morbid nous to

Chiselling out words
Which cut deep down to the
legible
So be it on our own

to out own nadir
Reality we try to
Trying to a twisted smile
Similar to silver plate

On a which is joined
Hammering in each nail
kill and testament
Left now

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

Carving out words
shear brittle bones
Always spelt out
We just can't leave the alone

Monographic
A doctrine of diseased minds perplexed
epigrams
Eschatological, requiems

our own worst cynics
Exorcisers of scorn
our own graves
But never stand and mourn

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

Munificant
From the deviants

Execrations, spiritual release
Exoneration, upon the we feast
Excogitation, picking at the bones of
Exculpitation, foul verbal

Epigraphic text, a vex
The macabre perplexed, with meshed

Euthenic
An unpleasant to a world perplexed
Corporeal
Eschatological

forever cryptic
Exercisers of twisted
Helping you to dig up the
Whilst still are the wreaths

The now pandemonium
Heard out in the muddy
Espoused with the
We play on our own

Epithetic
A rality perplexed

Execrations, literary of atrocities fairy
Exoneration, harsh, cold marys
Excogitation, a eutechnique
Exculpitation, artworks, so unique

Monographic text, a vex
The macabre perplexed with meshed