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Lyrics:
Part I: 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 Ritalin No one ever died for my sins in hell As far as I can tell 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 fix Sitting on my crucifix A living room or my private womb While the moms and brats 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
Part II: City of the Damned
At the center of the Earth, in the parking lot Of the 7-Eleven 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
Part III: I 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 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's so full of shit Born and raised by hypocrites Hearts recycled but never saved From the cradles 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 it don't believe in me Land of make believe And it don't believe and I don't care (Ooh ooh ooh!)
I don't care (Ooh ooh ooh!) I don't care (Ooh ooh ooh!) I don't care (Ooh ooh ooh!) I don't care
Part IV: Dearly Beloved
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
Oooohh... ooh ooh ooh, oooohh ooh
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, ah
Oooohh... ooh ooh ooh, oooohh ooh
Part V: Tales from Another Broken Home
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 fucking lies
I lost my faith to this This town that don't exist So I run, I run away The lights 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 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!
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