Gentlemen have no fear of these here black and blue contusions
As you soon will see, it’s all a simple yet grand illusion
This cadaver lying in disarray ran his errands yesterday
Now, for the sake of science, is spread out on this here cold tray, today

Oh Doctor Nicolaes Tulp
Can you please help my mind to cope
With the thought that we’re all going to die
In time?

Blood and guts! Is that all we are?
Blood and guts! We ooze and we scar
Is that all we are?
Got me this far

A splice or a puncture, we must expect
To rupture a few veins of azure
This occupation demands dealing with a little brain splatter

To a Mister or a Misses Schmidt
This must seem so very macabre
But disregard, and go sharpen all your
Wits and tools for the job
Now swab