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