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