There's not much left to do
Detailed, numerous, his morbid plans
Once you lay trapped on his cold slab.
Perhaps he'll remove your heart first
And as the blood flow stops,
cocoon you in a cold, dark hearse
As you dismiss Life's clock
Perhaps he'll remove your kidneys,
You won't need them after today.
And watch as you pass in agony,
The Grim Reaper is on his way
Or maybe he'll take any bits,
A random pick and choose.
Don't worry as your conscious slips,
Life fading in a crimson ooze
Beware the bloodied surgeon,
What gruesome death he brings.
Destroying all around him,
Cloaked deep within Hell's wings
~the Nightmare Doctor