Here’s a band-aid for your severed arm
I couldn’t find a tourniquet, you still haven’t said thank you yet
You’re bleeding, all on my brand-new shoes
I’ll take them to the dry cleaner and have them send the invoice straight to you.
And yes you’re welcome for the privilege
Of seeing my new kickass sword, and all the tricks I almost learned
It’s your fault, when you think of it,
I told you not to move an inch but then I think you kind of flinched
And that’s what broke my concentration, leading to this laceration
Now your arm is lifeless on the ground.
And yes I’m sorry, that you feel this way,
In excruciating pain, I guess it’s not your lucky day
Now you’re woozy, yes you’re feeling faint,
I’d take you to the hospital but I’ve got other plans and I can’t flake.
Mr. Policeman, it’s a crying shame
My friend here wasn’t being safe with martial arts or sharpened blades
I’m feeling, just a twinge of guilt,
But only in an abstract way, if you lean close it’s plain as day
His fingerprints are clearly on the hilt.
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