In the dissection of flesh and the sawing of bone

I've coaxed confessions from the lips of the dead

Postmortem scrutiny that has clinically shone

The horrifying facts that would have never been said...

Unbosoming their secrets in the sickening results of their demise

Stomaching these wretched human riddles

I carve, hack and slice

Illuminating the dusty skeletons that lurk in closets, bones and entrails

Enduring the ghastly visage of violent death in my forensic travails...

Whether in pieces or completely decomposed

I asses with clinical indifference

The remnants of a life which grisly circumstance has brought to this office

Ensuring that truth shall endure after the flesh has crumbled and rotted away

Elucidating atrocities and carnage, the thankless job I perform day after day...

Persistent incisions that cut to the quick are my stock in trade

To scrutinize what remains of a life, painstaking effort will have to be made

At times both evidence and flesh are profoundly encrypted and shred

It can be murder to pry answers from the mouths of the dead...

A gutted torso can pose a bevy of answerless questions to deliberate

Probing with a scalpel

I expose the morbid cavity that I now must eviscerate

Unlocking death's mysteries with my forceps, tweezers and saw

Wringing revelations from a fibula, fossa or jaw...

Recording confessions that are uttered without making a sound

From informants long dead that I've culled from the ground

Beneath the pallid veil of cold flesh or enshrouded in the shredded remains of a face, Exhuming the truth is my occupation, no matter how decrepit it's resting place...

Within the bowels of a horribly mutilated corpse or a splattered brain

Picking apart flesh and deceit only the cold facts remain

Dead men will tell tales if you know how to listen and learn

Even when they've been stabbed, beaten, shot, hacked up and burned...

This morbid quest for knowledge is not without its rewards

Much can be extrapolated from a decrepit infants gourd

My bureau's a slab, my text is a corpse, and I've studied with sincere, ardent fervor

And found that often man's inhumanity to man is all to well deserved...