| Lyrics: | ...Alphabetic diagram...
...Of the gross exam...
Medical examiners are detectives, who
forensically
sift through a body of evidence
It's rarely simple, as you can see...the organs
are on
the inside
We open up the corpse to find the clues that point to
an explanation
that might make sense
Let's crack the cadaver open for a little peek and
document what we
find...
...With scalpel in hand...
...I hatch the plan...
Whether man, woman, child-the
procedure is always the
same
Beginning the medicolegal autopsy isn't very hard
The
thoracoabdominal incision is the name of this
turgidly morbid game
And the letter "Y" is the
shape that we must carve...
All ME's worth their salt keep a blade of their own
And have
their scalpel professionally sharpened,
polished, and honed
Because of its ability to cut
through skin, meat,
gristle, and bone
We keep track of it from the opening of the corpse
to
when it is sewn...
...I must confess...
...This will make a mess...
...The stiff
is ripe and putrefied...
...I scalpel the mephitic skin...
...And trace the letter
"Y"...
...So the autopsy begins...
In order to field dress this cadaver we cut from
the
bottom of the neck to above the crotch
Some pathologists prefer to first puncture the
bloated
corpse to release built-up methane gas
Simply grasp the scalpel and apply downward
pressure
at the jugular notch
You'll find the skin will slice like butter,
revealing
subcutaneous tissue and ballooning yellow fat...
...No time to
flinch...
...Only amateurs cringe...
Draw the blade down over the body of the sternum
and
breastplate
Past the manubrium and xiphoid process and
costoxiphoid ligame |
