Forensic Clinicism/The Sanguine Article Songtext / Lyric

Salutiferous exaltation

Through fusty spatterings I sift

Cauterizing proud flesh

Pyogenic cortex I just yearn to rip



With impalpable, cathartic tools

Dilapidated lusts I gratify

Cold premeditated surgery

In my calculated surgery I hold your fragile life



Pultacious

Pugnacious

Pernicious

Acro-idiopathic



Artificially concussed

Excavating to your gastric core

Patulous, deep wounds

Cascading and crimson as I explore






Master at my bloody art

I like to carve sculpture and maim

Mounted on the freezer's geurney

You're exhibited until you enter into decay



Pultacious

Pugnacious

Delicious

Gastric-idiopathology



Welcome to my theater

The stage upon which I act

Turning into a sumptuous performance

Heinously I hew and gash



Churning out a deep gulch

The incision a major nick

A quick toke of nitrous oxide

Is how I get my kicks



Expurgating healthy tissue

Opulent flesh I slit

Costate cuts expunged

As the patient I now fillet



Malpractising and mussing

Carnage hyperventilates

Self placebonic

The only is operate



The recumbent are my prey

Under my genital blade

Your precordium I brutally plunder

Whilst you're put under



Exanguinating, you're totally parched

Exenterating, removing body parts

Wholly abraded, surgically maimed

Decortication, medically slain



Contaminating, infecting

How I love to cough and sneeze

On the carneous culture

To cause bacteria to breed



Anaesthetised, paralyzed

A clinical stupor is induced

With callous dexterity

Your bodily mass is reduced



I extract the gullet

To end up in my bucket

A quick flick of my wrist

And I'll be struck off the list



Exanguinating, straight from the heart

Exenterating with my lancet so sharp

Anatomically my surgery maims

Decortication by the clinically deranged



Gross misconduct

I make the choicest cuts

Text book stabs

Written on your tag



Wheeled away after a medical mishap

In a polythene bag your body is now wrapped

The acute wound now sealed up

The picture of ill-health, you're a bit cut up