Medical Waste by Impaled
We have stared over the precipice of mortality
And death's gaping maw could not be sated
Our deviant feats could not attain immortality
In shame, we vow our flesh to be uncreated
Putrescence and filth, within our lab and within ourselves
The mocking corpses bloat and distend
This reeking rubbage will dispell
When our lives, by our own hands, we'll dutifully end
In vaporous rooms, veins swell to burst
Anæsthesia is applied
Scalpels lick our forearms and wrists
Doctor assisted suicide
Caught in the act, we are red-handed
From the antibrachium, flesh is disbanded
Anti-coagulants of our invention
Will ensure no bloodflow retention
Goblets are filled with the reagent
Our work's micturation
A toast is raised to time spent
On failed experimentation
(solo: "Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble" by S.C. McGrath)
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