Grinding forth from the halls of education   Replete with the stench of dessication   Four pre-meds suffer condemnation   Tomes were perused, tombs were abused   All medico-legal limitations refused   With inhuman dexterity and intelligence, infused      Master thespians in the operating theatre   Likewise endowed in a gorenography feature   Deranged we may be after a blood bath   But all that rots can't be studied intact      Sifting through reams of anatomical charts   Bisecting livers and dissecting hearts   Arcane knowledge for doctoral upstarts   Rooting through a chum ridden morass   Cells scrutinized on iodized glass   We've mapped the structure of a carcass      (solo: "Destroying Galen" by J. Kocol)   (solo: "De Fabrica Humani Corpus" by S.C. McGrath)      Up to our elbows in grue and claret   We proffer quite a sanguine display   As we rule this mondo medicale   With scalpels and blades prepared on the tray   Integument cut and dermis to flay   You will rue this mondo medicale      Bypassing moral balances and checks   Summistes on high, rewriting texts   Our æsculapian methods leave them all vexed   Surgical aspirations, all dignified   Post-modern Versali, repersonified   But for our successes, we're villified      A trocar employed for psycho-surgery   In this bedlam of hospitality   Though flesh and blood are dead inside   The gross anatomy can still be applied   To raise the stakes of medicine's breadth   These choice cuts ours, until death   Our work is to die for so don't be a knave   Choke on it and go back to the grave