That's what it was all about in September of 1992, when I pointed my poisoned pen at the men and women of Laboratory science. We nurses would have our running battles with them occasionally, most often when chaos ruled.
Wild Eyed Kooks
I called the central lab
Because I needed a result,
I'm most certainly convinced
That it's run by some weird cult,
They've got a fatal fetish
For fluids, flesh and flukes,
There's no way that I would mingle
With those crazy wild eyed kooks.
Should you fail to label properly
You're bound to draw a curse,
A basic job requirement
Is to irritate each nurse,
Their skin is pale and shrivelled
I suspect their brains are rotted,
You'll know you've been defeated, when
They call and say, "It's clotted".
The rumors float around this place
About the missing nurse,
This lab escapes reality
It's in another universe,
A parallel projection
That belies a deadly mystery,
Should you dare to cross the threshold
Your name will soon be history.
So beware and hold it sacred
Genuflect before the lab,
Should you violate its sanctity
You may end up on a slab,
Prepared for vivisection
They love it when you're fresh,
Because they've got a special thing for
The fluids, flukes and flesh.