Horse the Band

Cutsman

What is that?
(Fire from the gods)
I don’t know
Powerglove
That little bastard
With his tricks and vile forms of play
Hacking, shaving, slicing, mutilating
All that gets before him, or that gets in his way
Coming around, down the stairs
The wood cracked beneath my feet
My hand slid across the rail
Collecting dust on my fingertips
Then I came into a dark room
That smelled of wet stone and many years
And there was a robotic retard
With a blank empty stare
It was a little android man
Half the size that I am
Scissors on his head
Scissors on his fucking head
Little android man
Born without a soul
Without that force of reason
The scissors took control
Little android man
Born without a heart
If he’s in your vicinity he’ll cut you apart
Here he comes, there’s no time
It’s just a game
Don’t look back, he’s right behind
Here’s your piece of mind
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut-Cut!
Little android man
Born without a soul
Without a voice of reason
The scissors took control
Little android man
Born without a heart
Anything in his vicinity
He’ll cut you apart
Little android man
Never, never, never trust a
Little android man
He’ll cut, cut, cut, cut!
(I love the Powerglove, it’s so bad)