Jesus of Suburbia (I. Jesus of Suburbia / II. City of the Damned / III. I Don't Care / IV. Dearly Beloved / V. Tales of Another Broken Home (feat. John Gallagher Jr., Michael Esper, Stark Sands, Mary Faber, The American Idiot Broadway Compa - Green Day, Michael Esper, Stark Sands

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 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 moms and Brads 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

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

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

Part 5: Tales Of 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

To the light of masochist

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…