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...
Then we'll teach fear to those who's actions bear the weight of those who died to soon
to know unrest.
oooOOHOooohhoOOooohhhhh...
