Night Surgeon 1888

 
Alas, the night has come at last,
Hiding every inch of life,
And who would I be, to disagree,
I hold no tolerance for simple strife,
Though I must say, indeed,
That you mouth would be better shut,
Nothing though, I cannot fix,
With a simple nip and simple cut,
Who am I, you might of asked,
Before or after you fade to black,
Night surgeons have no need for names,
So one could simply call me Jack,
Now I do believe this case is bad,
In fact the worst that I have seen,
It seems my knife has taken a liking,
To both kidneys and your spleen,
By all means, That was rude,
Dying before I wanted you to,
I guess these intestines and ovaries,
Are now of no use to you.