| Song | Medical Waste |
| Artist | Impaled |
| Album | Death After Life |
| 作曲 : McGrath, Sewage | |
| We have stared over the precipice of mortality | |
| And death's gaping maw could not be sated | |
| Our deviant feats could not attain immortality | |
| In shame, we vow our flesh to be uncreated | |
| Putrescence and filth, within our lab and within ourselves | |
| The mocking corpses bloat and distend | |
| This reeking rubbage will dispell | |
| When our lives, by our own hands, we'll dutifully end | |
| In vaporous rooms, veins swell to burst | |
| Anæsthesia is applied | |
| Scalpels lick our forearms and wrists | |
| Doctor assisted suicide | |
| Caught in the act, we are red-handed | |
| From the antibrachium, flesh is disbanded | |
| Anti-coagulants of our invention | |
| Will ensure no bloodflow retention | |
| Goblets are filled with the reagent | |
| Our work's micturation | |
| A toast is raised to time spent | |
| On failed experimentation (solo: "Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble" by S.C. McGrath) | |
| Noxious salves enkindling throats | |
| Congealing on tongues in coats | |
| With instruments we have fathered | |
| We'll proceed to disembowel eachother (solo: "Bungled Grind" by T. Spruance) | |
| Fraternal dissection | |
| Detritus of a cold cook... medical waste | |
| Keech of those that were burked... medical waste | |
| Sweetmeats hung from rusted hooks ... medical waste | |
| Maladroit surgical jerks... we're medical wastes | |
| Lacerated midsections... medical waste | |
| Sucking wounds fillling lungs... medical waste | |
| Our avulsed intestines... medical waste | |
| Errorist physicians... we're medical wastes | |
| Our characters are mortally wounded | |
| Teetotaciously rent corporeal shells | |
| And now our blood and grue is self-exuded | |
| For from icarian heights we fell (solo: "Live By the Scalpel, Die..." by J. Kocol) (solo: "Voluntary Suicide" by S.C. McGrath) |
| zuò qǔ : McGrath, Sewage | |
| We have stared over the precipice of mortality | |
| And death' s gaping maw could not be sated | |
| Our deviant feats could not attain immortality | |
| In shame, we vow our flesh to be uncreated | |
| Putrescence and filth, within our lab and within ourselves | |
| The mocking corpses bloat and distend | |
| This reeking rubbage will dispell | |
| When our lives, by our own hands, we' ll dutifully end | |
| In vaporous rooms, veins swell to burst | |
| An sthesia is applied | |
| Scalpels lick our forearms and wrists | |
| Doctor assisted suicide | |
| Caught in the act, we are redhanded | |
| From the antibrachium, flesh is disbanded | |
| Anticoagulants of our invention | |
| Will ensure no bloodflow retention | |
| Goblets are filled with the reagent | |
| Our work' s micturation | |
| A toast is raised to time spent | |
| On failed experimentation solo: " Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble" by S. C. McGrath | |
| Noxious salves enkindling throats | |
| Congealing on tongues in coats | |
| With instruments we have fathered | |
| We' ll proceed to disembowel eachother solo: " Bungled Grind" by T. Spruance | |
| Fraternal dissection | |
| Detritus of a cold cook... medical waste | |
| Keech of those that were burked... medical waste | |
| Sweetmeats hung from rusted hooks ... medical waste | |
| Maladroit surgical jerks... we' re medical wastes | |
| Lacerated midsections... medical waste | |
| Sucking wounds fillling lungs... medical waste | |
| Our avulsed intestines... medical waste | |
| Errorist physicians... we' re medical wastes | |
| Our characters are mortally wounded | |
| Teetotaciously rent corporeal shells | |
| And now our blood and grue is selfexuded | |
| For from icarian heights we fell solo: " Live By the Scalpel, Die..." by J. Kocol solo: " Voluntary Suicide" by S. C. McGrath |