Throw open the drawers in the dissection ward Hone the keen of the scalpel's dread blade Scrub down the slab for toes yet to be tagged And Y-shaped thoracic incisions to be made Slice through the corpses that now lay before us Postmortem butchery Hack through the thorax with bonesaw and pick axe Recreational pathology In death we are brought to this, disassembly line Our legacy is hacked to bits, disassembly line On toe tags our epigraphs writ Reduced to bone, flesh, bowels and shit, disassembly line Ribcages shattered, gastric acids spatter The trocar suctions sebum and bile Craniotomies botched, cold blood curdles and clots Staining forceps, hemostat and file Rend through cold flesh, never minding the mess Disorganized carnal junk heap Slash limb, hands and feet, autopsy incomplete Just another piece of dead meat In death we are brought to this, disassembly line Our legacy is hacked to bits, disassembly line On toe tags our epigraphs writ Reduced to bone, flesh, bowels and shit, disassembly line Cankered cadavers, strewn in swollen disorder An abattoir of the deceased Slaughter the dead, spraying green, black and red In gastric discharge I stand ankle-deep Tear out the brains of the sadistically splayed Indignities heaped upon their expiration Shred unseeing eyes and gash venal, flabby thighs With macabre, sardonic vexation In death we are brought to this, disassembly line Our legacy is hacked to bits, disassembly line On toe tags our epigraphs writ Reduced to bone, flesh, bowels and shit, disassembly line