With respects to Josef Mengele

The vault of ancient subways cracks the sky
The twins are sewn together as they die
Light catches on his lonely wire frame
Buried underneath his coat and name
Mein gott, he operated far too long...
And the surgeon's lonely bones rattle on

Beneath the weeping moon and jungle air
He sits and combs his mane of midnight hair
He shall not be the victim of a grudge
Never shall he bow before some judge
He whistles an old German folk song...
And the surgeon's lonely bones rattle on

The kisses of the vales are moist and warm
The fog is wrapped around his sleeping form
As daylight pries apart his waking eyes
The doctor cannot dream and so he cries
Besmirched, he has been done so wrong...
And the surgeon's lonely bones rattle on

Ash is ash and dust is through and true
The devil has been paid his rightful due
Witches brew a curse to steal his soul
The earth will not accept his body whole
No coffin in the dirt would be so strong...
So the surgeon's lonely bones must rattle on