There’s a man with a tricycle, he’s got quite the flair,
A puppet named Billy with that deadpan stare.
He’s the king of traps, the maestro of pain,
But deep down inside, he’s just slightly insane.
He says, “Live or die, make your choice today,”
But who brings a hacksaw on a casual Tuesday?
He’s got puzzles and riddles, he’s clever, he’s spry,
And don’t even ask how he sets up that guy!
Oh Jigsaw, the king of the floor,
With your bear traps and puzzles galore!
You’re the Game Master of gore and despair,
But deep down we know you just really care.
Got a TV screen, he’s the face of the show,
Saying cryptic stuff like, “You reap what you sow.”
He’s a health nut too, but let’s not forget,
He’s real big on morals—just watch where you step.
His traps are ironic, his motives are clear,
Though the victims might say he’s a bit cavalier.
“Want to play a game?” is his favorite line,
He’s the Bob Ross of carnage, painting pain all the time.
Oh Jigsaw, the king of the floor,
With your bear traps and puzzles galore!
You’re the Game Master of gore and despair,
But deep down we know you just really care.
Let’s not forget the engineering degree,
Or the artsy finesse of his cruelty spree.
Who funds these contraptions? Who’s paying the rent?
Does he write off his traps as a business expense?
So here’s to you, Jigsaw, you’re one of a kind,
A mastermind villain with a real sharp mind.
We’ll laugh as we scream, and we’ll scream as we laugh,
Just don’t invite us to take a bloodbath.
Oh Jigsaw, the king of the floor,
With your bear traps and puzzles galore!
You’re the Game Master of gore and despair,
But deep down we know you just really care.
So we raise a glass to your morbid domain,
You’re the patron saint of the slightly deranged.
Jigsaw, you madman, you’re one for the books,
A twisted Picasso with bloody outlooks!