The Doctor

This lady's life consists of nothing,

But pus and blood and doctoring. 

She cuts people open and examines their skulls,

And over and over their brain stems she mulls. 

She delights in flesh and marrow galore,

While people throw up and say 'What a bore!'

Sick people do run when they see her face,

For there is doctor's equipment inside her black case. 

On top of the operating table,

She brings out a knife and several cables. 

She sticks them in their body at random,

Bringing immediate death to the very ill person.

Then she cuts them to pieces to be stored in a box,

That unfortunate human on the table-top!