Forensick Malfeasance Lyrics


Vitrescent nebulous eyes is the first what caught in the head lamps light

My eye stops on a short coroner’s note “Accidentally taking approx. 45 mg of strychnine”

Kids like white powders

Soon they will prepare you to be placed in your puny coffin

They'll write a few mawkish platitudes on the tombstone

But first I have to do a few incisions

Don’t you worry little b(rat), you’ll feel rather nothing

I’m stealing the tangibles of the dead

Those organs could be sold

Some will be appropriate for my personal pleasures, or a dish from the liver

A gurney wheeling a safeguarded cadaver

Another riddle to be solved

I mark the course of incisions with a inker

Choice cuts must be clean and prudent for them to not notice

I could lose my license for what I do

The dull glow of the fluorescent light luminate the dissected larynx

Rigor mortis preserved the tonic spasm quite perfectly

Application of barbitalum was no use, trachea tightened too quickly

Resected xiphoid, itsy bruised lungs, racemes of bronchial I pop for fun

Diced arteries are adorned with clots

Separated tendons unleashing the organs

Delitescent autopsy of a peritoneal cavity

Diminutive torso flows with treasures

Gallons of blood secreted from the deceased

Muscles becomes flaccid

Empty veins I filled with liquid nitrogen

Artistic visage

Singular cut through gunwale, trifle exsiccatae bolus prolapse

Losing organs on a pathological arbor, you must be stitched and clean

For the traces of my ventures shall be clandestine

Internal offal packed in ice

I took the bite of a spleen for digestive biopsy

Interior is filling up with styrofoam

(solo: “Bittersweet liposuction”)

For body to transfigure into a plastic hybrid

Incisions sew together, the last apertures I filling with wax

Concoction of loam and embalming fluid to get your ideal weight

Nobody will notice you are hollow inside

Posthumously drowned in formaldehyde

A limp puppet shall become object of miserable lamentations

Neatly packed into salt-filled box

You’re fucking dead!