They cracked my ribs, took out my heart,
probably the hardest part.
Took some veins out of my calf.
That tickled and made me laugh.
While I was laying on my back,
they used my heart like a hacky sack.
In my chest, they tapped my lungs,
playing them like bongo drums.
Blood was flowing like a river.
Someone yelled, “Take out his liver!”
Good thing I was under gas,
would have kicked some doctor ass.
Then they put the heart back in,
passed around a fifth of gin,
tied my ribs and sewed my chest.
They had done their very best.
Last thing I heard was their hollers,
“That’ll be two million dollars!”