Scissorhands The Uncluded
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Scissorhands" by The Uncluded. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Chorus: Aesop Rock & Kimya Dawson]
There are days when I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag
Even if I had Edward Scissorhands hands
There are times I kick and scream and cry
Because I'm swept up in a hurricane
Of shit that hard to leave behind
This snowballs chances are fantastic
With elemental firm my past hell bent on escalating fast
There are days when I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag
Even if I had Edward Scissorhands hands
[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
If I had Edward Scissorhands hands
I would whittle pogs into pentagrams
Like say hello to my little friends
Give me ten snip snip
Harvester of middle men
And thumbs pit against a bit of introspective sludge
In a moment of resenting he's motivated of forgetting
Home
A den of grotesque over stepping
Where blood ain't thick as a face full of spit
From a eucharistic minister enraged with his kid
The very same hand feeding Christ to parishioners
Later bunched tight
Punched lights out his miniatures
And images I don't associate with my awareness anymore
But I've recently been daring to explore
Instead of bury
Schlep home juggle the wet stones
The handshakes sting
But the hug is a death code
The son of a spitfire
Show up in the wet snow
He's cutting the tripwire
He's opened a window
Like a mercenary gunning for a slumbering death stroke
In the penultimate seconds of a budding crescendo
These stone snows
Scissorhands bets
Cut a pig heart from a wicked mans chest
Maybe hang it high on a fence for a fantasy alive in the eyes of revenge
Oh
And accidentally injure every jam band
If I had Edward Scissorhands hands
Hmm..
There are days when I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag
Even if I had Edward Scissorhands hands
There are times I kick and scream and cry
Because I'm swept up in a hurricane
Of shit that hard to leave behind
This snowballs chances are fantastic
With elemental firm my past hell bent on escalating fast
There are days when I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag
Even if I had Edward Scissorhands hands
[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
If I had Edward Scissorhands hands
I would whittle pogs into pentagrams
Like say hello to my little friends
Give me ten snip snip
Harvester of middle men
And thumbs pit against a bit of introspective sludge
In a moment of resenting he's motivated of forgetting
Home
A den of grotesque over stepping
Where blood ain't thick as a face full of spit
From a eucharistic minister enraged with his kid
The very same hand feeding Christ to parishioners
Later bunched tight
Punched lights out his miniatures
And images I don't associate with my awareness anymore
But I've recently been daring to explore
Instead of bury
Schlep home juggle the wet stones
The handshakes sting
But the hug is a death code
The son of a spitfire
Show up in the wet snow
He's cutting the tripwire
He's opened a window
Like a mercenary gunning for a slumbering death stroke
In the penultimate seconds of a budding crescendo
These stone snows
Scissorhands bets
Cut a pig heart from a wicked mans chest
Maybe hang it high on a fence for a fantasy alive in the eyes of revenge
Oh
And accidentally injure every jam band
If I had Edward Scissorhands hands
Hmm..
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