Waking up on a cold metal table Of a pain thats sharper than the blade That is buried deep inside you You are sedated right to the point Where your awake but cannot move A guinea pig for my thirst of knowledge I cut you open and reveal your intestines The smell of your insides makes me wild I bury my hands in your bowels A firm grip and I rip them out The sound of them hitting the floor Makes me go crazy, I lose my mind. At the morgue, You and I are the only thing with pulse How far can I go? Without you dying on my table. I put my hands inside your ribcage And I tear up everything Your eyes are screaming since you cant Now I see how the spark of life is leaving. Time to go and get another playmate. At the morgue, you and I are the only thing with pulse How far can I go? Without you dying on my table.