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 Ritalin

No one ever died for my sins in hell

As far as I can tell

At least the ones I got away with

 

And there's nothing wrong with me

This is how I'm supposed to be

In a land of make believe

That don't believe in me

Get my television fixed

Sitting on my crucifix

The living room or my private womb

While the Moms and Brads are away

 

To fall in love and fall in debt

To alcohol and cigarettes

And Mary Jane

To keep me insane

Doing someone else's cocaine

 

And there's nothing wrong with me

This is how I'm supposed to be

In a 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

 

It's beating out of time

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 read the graffiti

In the bathroom stall

Like the holy scriptures of the shopping mall

 

And so it seemed to confess

 

It didn't say much

But it only 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

I don't care

Everyone is 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 Anaheim to the middle east

We are the stories and disciples

Of the Jesus of suburbia

 

Land of make believe

 

And that don't believe in me

Land of make believe

And I don't believe

And I don't care

I don't care

I don't care

I don't care

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 retarded 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 you believe

And I leave behind

This hurricane of f**king lies

I lost my faith to this

This town that don't exist

So I run I run away

To the lights of masochist

And I leave behind

This hurricane of f**king lies

And I walked this line

A million and one f**king times

But not this time

I don't feel any shame

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

You're leaving

You're leaving

You're leaving

Ah you're leaving home