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hell im cheap, give me arlington cemetary, the black wall, pissing on the hollywood sign, pissing on four corners... usa land mark. slapin a few hundred peps and when i know i got 4 seconds to live... ram the fuckers that pass me then hit the blinker to turn right. yeah life would be good. oh put on dark sunglasses and pretend im blind and walk around the mall grabbing femals arse and saying "bob?"
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It means only one thing, and everything: Cut. Once committed to fight, Cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. The lines are a portrayal of the dance. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resoultely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don't allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depth of his spirit. It is the balance to life: death. It is the dance with death. It is the law a war wizard lives by, or he dies.
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