Grinding forth from the halls of education Replete with the stench of dessication Four pre-meds suffer condemnation Tomes were perused, tombs were abused All medico-legal limitations refused With inhuman dexterity and intelligence, infused
Master thespians in the operating theatre Likewise endowed in a gorenography feature Deranged we may be after a blood bath But all that rots can't be studied intact
Sifting through reams of anatomical charts Bisecting livers and dissecting hearts Arcane knowledge for doctoral upstarts Rooting through a chum ridden morass Cells scrutinized on iodized glass We've mapped the structure of a carcass
(solo: "Destroying Galen" by J. Kocol) (solo: "De Fabrica Humani Corpus" by S.C. McGrath)
Up to our elbows in grue and claret We proffer quite a sanguine display As we rule this mondo medicale With scalpels and blades prepared on the tray Integument cut and dermis to flay You will rue this mondo medicale
Bypassing moral balances and checks Summistes on high, rewriting texts Our æsculapian methods leave them all vexed Surgical aspirations, all dignified Post-modern Versali, repersonified But for our successes, we're villified
A trocar employed for psycho-surgery In this bedlam of hospitality Though flesh and blood are dead inside The gross anatomy can still be applied To raise the stakes of medicine's breadth These choice cuts ours, until death Our work is to die for so don't be a knave Choke on it and go back to the grave