Maybe when I'm dead in the ground, I'll rise and make a ghost,
For the liars, forest fires, those who led me to my grave.
Would it be fun to be an atom bomb, and then to blow your ass to the sea?
I mean is it wrong when I said all along, it's just how we teach by example,
Don't we?
For what you taught me a cup of coffee, we'll sit and speak of death,
And if per chance, you shit your pants, I'll haunt you to your dying breath,
But if by fate, a second date, we take the show on the road,
We'll teach fear to those actions bear the weight of those who died too soon,
To know unrest.