The County Medical Examiners

The County Medical Examiners - Algor Mortis... The Linear Rate Of Cadaveric Cooli lyrics

rate me

Ravaged, torn, and punctured-the carcass oozes from

multiple wounds

Avulsed and sliced, the dermis weeps pus and purge

fluid with clear, viscous goo

Prior to the initial incision, before my scalpel is

baptized bloody wet

We determine the postmortem interval using a simple

algebraic formula for death...

A direct body core temperature measurement,

postmortemly taken, is the order of the day

The corpse is lifted on its side and a slit in its

pants is cut in the most delicate way

Lacerations leak wasted heat and fluid, as the body

cools in a predictable manner

My assistant lubricates the thermo-couple probe, a

massive 12-inch long chemical thermometer...

...Freezing hold...

...Corpse gone cold...

...Cooling blood...

...An icy flood...

...The body a husk; its innards are spilt...

...This ferocious anal probing causes no guilt...

...A facet of my profession, this duty I've sworn...

...I stab forth the thermometer as the anus is torn...

Environmental conditions of the crime scene are

meticulously recorded

And the room temperature of the dissection room is

dubiously noted

The core temperature of the carcass plummets through

means of convection

Physical science triumphs over life as heat escapes

through radiation...

Moritz's formula is the rule of thumb from which I can

derive...

"98.6øF - rectal temperature ? 1.5"

This equation produces the time of death, though

nothing is quite this ideal

Whether oral, rectal, brain or liver, I shall monitor

the temperature with the greatest zeal...

This gelid method of detection has a cold-bloodedly

frigid appeal

Observe the sanguine-streaked suppuration chill, pool,

and congeal

Witness my barbarous severe intubation with

unsanitized tools

Truculently sodomizing corps-icles, making purple raw

recta drool...

...Freezing hold...

...Corpse gone cold...

...Cooling blood...

...An icy flood...

...Postmortem interval, the mystery at hand...

...Thrusting the probe past the prostate gland...

...The carcass is conquered by deaths cold will...

...Not even bactericidal rot can thwart its chill...

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