Oh, what mangled carcasses we be,
Twisted and strangled by life itself.
And here she comes,
Grinding like a buzz saw:
'Here comes the pain,
Here comes the scars;
Your bruises and contusions.
Here comes the explosion,
Your implosion,
I'm bringing the world down,
Down down down,
down upon your head!'

Oh, what a wonderful world, indeed,
But why, oh why, do you come to me?
I don't do repairs, I do eulogies!
You may think me a surgeon,
But I'm a hack medic at best;
I can't fix you, no matter how much I want to,
But I'll try, and I'll try, to comfort you,
As you die.
And I die a little every time I 'operate',
I use the term lightly, because, frankly,
I don't know what I'm doing!
I'll eye your corpse,
But I don't know how to stop the bleeding…
So here are some sympathetic words,
And a Band-Aid for your gaping wound.
You'll crumble in my hands,
And all I can do is watch.