Nativity Obscene - A Nursery Chyme-Exhumed

[Musick & Lyrixxx - Matt Harvey] Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehyde-filled bottle Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot An ossified infant, in its womb borne to rot Livid and stiff ere its first breath is claimed The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed Cold, dead and hard as it's exhumed from the womb The uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb... Only scalpels left for playthings Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing Baptism by embalming solution As the trocar facilities the cold blood's dilution... Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut Another tiny life that ended before it could begin Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin... Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears As the dry-eyed infant incites parents to bitter tears... Obstetric atrocity With a casket for a crib Nursery for an autopsy Body bag for a bib... Hush little baby, don't say a word Mama's going to have to get a casket reserved But if your body is too decomposed The coffin door will have to stay closed A babe in her arms Not safe from harm When the water breaks, the cradle will rot A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and Forgot... [Lead - Matt] Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother's milk Silent baby rattles stilled The doctor's gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled Morbid anatomy technicians are the child's only playmates Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one's tomb and trundle As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle... Dead before ever being alive to die Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry Dissected infant on the table, dead-cut and dry... Newborn fatality Whose playpen is a slab Lifeless nativity Diminutive toes to be tagged... Now I lay you down to sleep Your putrid flesh not long to keep If you should rot before you wake Then leave your corpse for the worms to take In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue Sobs are heard from the maternity ward But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes...