Our hypothesis carried out on mortal remains
Real-life application tests our conjectures
It seems despite our scientific progress
All we've proven is our abject failuresA foetid stench fills the air
And with a pungent voice declares
Though we prod a cadaver with care
There is no life in there
Altruistic notions aside
And the experiments we've tried
The veracity cannot be denied
There is no cure for those who've diedRot, waste, spoil, bilgeThe cynics did maintain
The dead shall dead remain
Our theory proved insane
The dead shall dead remainA pallid visage stares in disgust
Through sockets laden with crust
At the bungle it would see in us
If it were not destined to be dust
Turgid corpses received first aid
In our macabre palisade
Volts unleashed in a fussilade
But no twitch from this inert promenadeA canon of soulless masses
Where no animation trespasses
These patchwork men that lie about in heaps
They reaped what we'd sewn, and showed what we reapedThis quartet can no longer sustain
Beleaguered by a fatal admission
Our covent's work in this abbatoir
Blaspheme the sanctity of a physicianRot, waste, spoil, bilgeThe cynics did maintain
The dead shall dead remain
Our theory proved insane
The dead shall dead remain
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.