Heart Surgery Happiness

Today I’ve incised a chest to extract your heart muscle.

If you’re conscious when it starts to hurt, say the word uncle.

Today I’ve wrenched apart a rib cage to hold your heart before it busts.

I wouldn’t use the scalpel if I was unsure it cuts.

Blood on my clothes and what do I feel? Hurt.

Open my eyes and what do I see? Nerves.

Press down on your wrist, but I can’t feel a pulse, sadly.

Cut open your core and rip out your heart, so happy.

Plastic covers the floor behind my soundproof glass, heart surgery happiness.

Tonight I’ll puncture a lung, so I can take your breath away.

No surgical gloves, I’m into you today.

Fish out your eyes and keep them on me.

If your heart’s not for sale, I’ll steal it for free.

I wish upon stars as if they’re all depthless.

Heart still alive and its love is so deathless.

Wisdom is endless.

I’ll try not to break your glass heart, but who knows, I’m quite reckless.

Sticks and stones can break your bones and crack your skull, how funny.

I’m no doctor, but I want your heart real bloody.

When you’re half dead, half alive, solar plex madness.

I’ll take your heart from within your chest, heart surgery happiness.