* Sung to Simon and Garfunkel's Sound of Silence
Hello sharpness, my old friend
I chased you with a strop and then
A vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sharpening
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of sharpness
I chased you with water stones
Even tried a cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a work lamp
I held the blade in a steel clamp
When my finger was stabbed by the flash of a pointed knife
It gave me fright
And touched the sound of sharpness
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand grit, maybe more
Edges talking without speaking
Cutting paper without ripping
Edges splitting a single hanging hair
It made me scared
Inside the sound of sharpness
Fools, said I, you do not know
Sharpness like water flows
Hear my words that I might teach you
What lapping films really can do
But my words, like finger guillotines fell
And echoed in the depths of sharpness
And the people bowed and prayed
To the bevels that were made
And I shouted out a warning
To beware the edge forming
And the blade opened smoothly riding on little ceramic balls
They heard the call
And whispered in the sounds of sharpness

I'll just see myself into the nearest psychiatric facility. Cheers.