There is an old tradition, a game we all can play And it starts by getting liquored up and sharpening your blade You take a shot of whiskey, you grab your knife and pray And you spread apart your fingers, and this is what you say. “Oh, I have all my fingers! The knife goes CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! If I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off. And if I hit my fingers, the blood will soon come out. But all the same, I play this game ‘cause that’s what it’s all about!” No, you can’t use a pencil! You cannot use a pen! The only way is with a knife when danger is your friend. And some may call it stupid; some may call it dumb. But all the same, we play this game because it’s so damn fun! “Oh, I have all my fingers! The knife goes CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! If I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off! And if I hit my fingers, the blood will soon come out! But all the same, I play this game ‘cause that’s what it’s all about! Oh, CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! I’m picking