Last call, last round. Roofie's on the house. Make sure that you've got your hair pulled back Or your dad just might have To pull your freshly drowned and maimed chunks of liver Out from your bangs. Out from your bangs and he won't understand Why the check he wrote to pay for your books Went straight up your button nose instead. Jeremy spoke in class today and this is what he said: I raped Alice in chains with my nine inch nail And now her reading rainbow's dead. Schools for facts and figures. Schools to multiply the odds of our demise. No child gets left behind. SATs to nonox-9. From juicebox days to Columbine. A pyramid of emtpies, We're prime candidates for cyanide. It's my fault for fucking up the kids. It's my fault for buying in. It's all my fault. From the cradle to the grave: Like a production line for gorgeous brains. To be wild, oh, to break free. To forsake all that they're teaching me to be. It's all my fault. (It's all your fault.) I'm all to blame.