This song will become the anthem of your underground. You're two floors down
getting high in the back room. If I flooded out your house, do you think you'd
make it out, or would you burn up before the water filled your lungs? And at

your funeral I will sing the requiem. I'd offer you my hand but it would hurt
too much to watch you die. And you can bet when we mourn the death of you that
night that they'll lay me on the dinner table and I will be the pig with the

apple in my mouth, the food that celebrates your end.