The Lonely Deceased

What the old man don't know What his eyes yet have seen My sordid transpirings well into each eve While I'm paid so handsomely I would work here for free I stitch tight each orifice Once blessed with my seed The lonely deceased Cryptic, sewn-mouthed their secrets Shameful their silence Dragged down to the grave What happens on the slab Dies in this morgue with me In these four walls my grisly playground Where none rest in peace No words have been spoken No reprimand said Concealing so carefully My lust for the dead Their insides are glistening Curiosities fed Forensically frolicking While god is in bed Have I gone mad? Gruesome kingdom so lurid Hidden so convincingly They'd have my head Morbid morgue of malpractice I envy each death Are they finally free? This flesh of ours An earthly cage, key six feet down in a grave What harm's been done? The breathless have not any inhibition Haunted in dreams of their dead faces come to life Death is my business, work diligently A forte I've taken all too seriously I'm swift with the trocar, I scalpel with glee Besides, I like fucking them, a small perk for me The morgue is my sick whorehouse Their bodies, favourite toys Anointing them with ejaculate All the good little girls and boys They'd call me mad, sickly, lifeless devotion Their blood and their innocence drained What's left unsaid Guilted damnening sentence If there is a god down in hell's where I'll be This flesh of ours An earthly cage, key six feet down in a grave What crime's been done? The speechless won't contest this violation Cold dolls of skin Mounting the slab, thrusting myself deep within Though frowned upon The company policy: termination