White grinning smock kicks the roots of fate
Whilst in this social cage
And tripping over carnal pains
Alchemic change
Could never be
The catalyst for normalcy
Hippocrates defaced
Whilst crawling through the human wastes
With democratic feigns
For profit gains
Or is it too much to trust the doctor's touch?
Uneducated fear that licks upon a wealthy ear
Reaching back to scrape
The self absorbed and private itch
Surgeon displays
A weak malaise
That spins the seed of greed
To carry on that industry
Respectfully to disagree
White gloves pick away the fruits of fate
Rake in the cure delayed
That pours upon the potion gray
Apothecary
With medicated meat
That laughs upon immune defeat