I’m bout to bury the body
I’m bugging like entymology
I'll admit, I got a fetish for forensic pathology
Passing through my palace of examination you bout to be
Smelling all the rotten meat of medical criminology
Lacerations and larva, let 'em burrow deep inside purulence intensified (?) the tiny maggots make a colony
The morbid man who makes a living analyzing bodies goes to sleep only to dream about the very next day following
A deep obsession with the dead
Corpses dance in my head
I wake up and I write another entry in my diary
The ligature don’t lie to me
The body full of answers
Every day is an adventure cut it up and try to find the key
Isopropil dreams inside a medical fantasy
Excited by the glossy eyes of the copses staring back at me
The dead don’t tell not tales if you don’t listen
If you listen close you might not find a ghost
But you can find a source of agony
Thinking special thoughts about the subject on my slab
If anyone knew what I thought it’d put me in the sanitarium
We can have a conversation without speaking weaken, odor creeping
As I motor saw the top of the calvarium
Take a brain out and I place it gently on the scale and weigh it
This is where the souls contained it’s pretty fascinating ain’t it
God I love anatomy it had to be a match that’s made in heaven as I take the role of reverend of examination
[Chorus]
Can you feel what I feel
Can you feel what I feel
Can you kill what I kill
Can you kill what I kill