Yon painted ***** yet coffin fresh
the taste of death warm on her flesh
against mine own I long to press
in unholy union no priest would bless
the scent of grave and rictus grin
egg on my need my want to sin
fragile as the first spring bloom
I lay her gently in my room
and soft I claim her as my prize
not with my hands but with my eyes
she's  somewhat cold yet heats my blood
my freshly plucked from rest Rose bid
with shaking hands I lay her bare
and at her beauty stand and stare
for here tonight before my peers
I'll put to rest such childlike fears
with surgeons fingers such as these
I'll enter her with precise ease
I'll make of her a thing of pleasure
my illicit gift mine stolen treasure
so gentlemen please take a pew
as I perform right here for you
autopsy 101's in session
today the womb's the arranged lesson
thank you Burke thank you Hare
same time tomorrow please take care.