Iced Earth

A mastermind in the old watchtower
Prying eyes must never find.
Playing God in the final hour
Insanity, such a fine line
Overwhelmed by the mourning process
And the loss of his dearly loved
The Doctor's work is now obsession
What is life? What's beyond?
He wants to know what it's like to be God
Creating life with his own hands
To reanimate lifeless tissues
The Devil's work, the doctors plan
A man of wealth and a genius mind
A slave to passion and his morbid side
Robbing graves of the nearly dead
Erratic tendencies, a troubled mind