I'm the son
of rage and love
The Jesus of suburbia
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 fix
Sitting on my crucifix
The living room
in my private womb.
While the moms
and dads 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 Seven-Eleven
where I was taught
The motto
was just a lie
It says:
Home is where
your heart is
But what a shame
'Cos 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 sh*t
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 it don't
believe in me
Land of make believe
And I don't believe
And I don't care
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
Ooh... ooh ooh ooh
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 the lack of
a better word and
that's my best excuse
Ooh... ooh ooh ooh
Ooh...
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***ing lies
I lost my
faith to this
This town
that don't exist
So I run
I run away
The light of masochist
And I leave behind
This hurricane
of f***ing lies
And I walked this line
A million and one
f***ing times
But not this time
I don't feel any shame
I won't apologise
When there ain't
nowhere you can go
Running away from
pain when you've
been victimised
Tales from
another broken
Home
You're leaving
You're leaving
You're leaving
Ah you're
leaving home