The Hand
Buckethead Lyrics

My Hand
The artist emphasizes his focus on his hand, indicating it has been traumatized.

My Hand, My Hand, My Hand
The artist repeats 'My Hand' several times, emphasizing its importance as the subject of the song.

why'd I put it in the guillotine?
The artist expresses regret for ruining his hand.

I dont know, Our days are in rows
The artist reflects that the future is predetermined and so he doesn't know why he did it.

Fingers cut in half
The artist describes the damage done to his hand.

Bones split to pieces
The artist vividly describes how the bones of his hand have been destroyed.

Tendons severed!
The artist emphasizes how his tendons have been completely cut apart.

(laughter)
The artist breaks into laughter, perhaps indicating that he has lost his mind due to the trauma of the incident.

Don’t you crawl away from me
The artist is talking to his hand as if it is a separate entity, showing that his relationship with it has completely changed.

Look, nickel, nickel
The artist addresses a monetary unit, potentially to act as a distraction from the grim topic of discussion.

Here they are, four fingers, Look what you done to me!
The artist continues to address his hand as if it is not part of him, lamenting the damage that has been done to it.

(moaning)
The artist expresses physical and emotional pain in response to the injury.

Ladies those are precious, Teachers don't work, Here we go
The artist implies that women are attracted to hands and that his hand injury has removed his appeal.

I don’t have to play with that hand anymore, I can just, I’ll will just, I’ll keep it in my, I’ll keep it in my pants pocket, That’s all I carry around with me, It’s little so don’t matter, I can still pet the dog with it
The artist resigns himself to the fact that his hand is useless and irrelevant, but still finds it comforting to keep it with him in some way.

Damn you guillotine, Who would have thought a guillotine could have done something like this?, I have it in the closet, and another thing, I thought I would do it again
The artist blames the guillotine for destroying his hand and seems to have a fixation with using it again.

Gonna scratch some hands, Sit here in my pocket, Lets be good friends, Come on man, Come on just
The artist seems to be talking to his pocket and hand as if they are other people, again separated from himself.

I may not be hungry before I got some, I can suture, I can do some stitches, I can sew you together, Give it away to men to shake hands, And call it buddy
The artist seems to be suggesting that he could use his injured hand to help others who have also been injured, or to create a new kind of handshake.

Your hand is useless now, It’s never able to work again,
The artist reemphasizes the permanent damage that his hand has suffered and its inability to function normally.

Don’t you crawl away from me again
The artist once again addresses his hand directly, expressing a fear that it will somehow escape or abandon him.