Hanging on a string,
This is your life,
You better be good to me,
‘Cause I’ve got the scissors,
And your life is the thread,
Stretched out in anticipation,
Of the final snip,
That ends it all.
Here you are,
And I am the guillotine,
The dropping blade
Stopped midway,
Poised on the brink of death,
Ready to fall,
To end it all.
I am in control.
I am the knife,
The pistol,
The cannon,
The grenade,
Ready to cut,
And throw,
To end it all,
If there be reason,
To end it all…