Testo di I, The Surgeon

Courage, I am begging you. Every time you've conjoined hands with your friend Cowardly must be eradicated. I've been mistakenly fabricated. My limb is in need of adjustment to its reach. To those ignoring our plight, we will turn them into fools tonight. Let us surface and make face with surrounding skeptical critics. To the know it all, the medic, and the swine. Let them point their boney fingers. Deserving we are of this alignment of ourselves to the bone. Set aside from the typical, ostracized and belittled, they're abstaining our will to speak. They've deemed us a unique group of intolerable beggars, but these branches are shading their perspective. Riddled by my own hand and convinced that I would be more useful without such useless things. Drive the hammer through the bone. This passionate yearn settled through a faulty operation.