[Verse #1]

A forest of tongues rooted deep in their sockets dry… silence

An army of eyes gazing round for some flaw to spy… violence

Twenty-five grand to reattach a retina… (in a) furnace

Twenty-five and out, and all the good it’s getting you… burn this

[Chorus]

I’m a pro, I’m a surgeon

Ice-cold veins, keep on working

White-hot pain, feel nothing at all

[Verse #2]

The time I burned the armrest in the Mustang with a cigarette… junked it

The test that they gave to see if you were feeling it… flunked it

The latest in a series of biggest disappointments yet… waitress

Finally get it right, and there’s no one left to witness it… hate this