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.