These scissorhands can be used to cut shrubbery. Or shall I turn them on my enemy?
The blade of my tongue can slash sharp like a knife. Shall I shoot barbs to machine gun-fire shred feelings to bits? Then I could emblazon MY words on your chest so that ALL could design what MY blade-ness can do.
Or I can just blade down the road on our street, rolling on by, darkly thinking my mind.