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| GREEN DAY American Idiot Jesus Of Suburbia I'm the son of rage and love The Jesus of Suburbia From the bible of none of the above On a steady diet of soda pop and ridalin No one ever died for my sins in hell As far as I can tell Atleast the ones I've gotten away with But there's nothing wrong with me This is how I'm supposed to be In the land of make believe That don't believe in me Get my television fix sitting on my crucifix The living room in my private womb While the mom's and brad's are away To fall in love and fall in debt To alcohol and cigarettes and mary jane to keep me insane and doing someone else's cocaine But there's nothing wrong with me This is how I'm supposed to be IN the land of make believe That don't believe in me At the center of the earth In the parking lot of the 7-11 where I was taught The motto was just a lie It says "home is where your heart is" But what a shame 'cause everyone's heart doesn't beat the same We're beating out of time City of the dead At the end of another lost highway Signs misleading to nowhere City of the damned Lostchildren with dirty faces today No one really seems to care I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall Like the holy scriptures in a shopping mall And so it seemed to confess It didn't say much But it conly confirmed that The center of the earth is the end of the world and I could really care less City of the dead At the end of another lost highway Signs misleading to nowhere City of the damned Lost children with dirty faces today No one really seems to care I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't care I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't care I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't care I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't I don't care if you don't care And I don't care Everyone's so full of shit Born and raised by hypocrites Hearts recycled but never saved From the cradle to the grave We are the kids of war and peace from Anahem to the Middle East We are the stories and disciples of the Jesus of Suburbia Land of make believe And it don't believe in me Land of make believe And it don't believe in me And I don't care And I don't care And I don't care And I don't care! Dearly beloved, are you listening? I can't remember a word that you were saying Are we demented? Or am I disturbed? The space that's in between insane and insecure Oh therapy, can you please fill the void? Am I retard? Or am I just overjoyed? Nobody's perfect and I stand accused For lack of a better word And that's my best excuse To live and not to breathe Is to die in tragedy To run, to run away, to find, what to believe And I, leave behind, this huricane of fucking lies I lost, my faith to this, this town that don't exist so I run, I run away To the light of masochists And I, leave behind, this hurricane of fucking lies And I, walked this line, a million and one fucking times But not this time! I don't feel any chame, I won't apologize When there ain't nowhere you can go Running away from pain when you've been victimized Tales from another broken home |
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