Welcome To Paradise (Woodstock 1994)

Lyrics
[Intro: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, Announcer] What kind of a day do you want? What kind of a day do you want? Green fucking Day (Hits microphone against head) Ah Oh, what is this fucking free hippie love shit How you all doing, all you rich motherfuckers [Verse 1: Billie Joe Armstrong with Mike Dirnt] Dear mother, can you hear me whining? It's been three whole weeks since that I have left your home This sudden fear has left me tremblin' 'Cause now it seems that I am out here on my own And I'm feeling so alone [Chorus: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, both] (Ah) Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes Some call it slums, some call it nice (Ah) I want to take you through a wasteland I like to call my home Welcome to paradise [Verse 2: Billie Joe Armstrong with Mike Dirnt] A gunshot rings out at the station Another urchin snaps and left dead on his own It makes me wonder why I'm still here For some strange reason it's now feeling like my home And I'm never gonna go [Chorus: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, both] (Ah) Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes Some call it slums, some call it nice (Ah) I want to take you through a wasteland I like to call my home Welcome to paradise [Instrumental Bridge] [Verse 3: Billie Joe Armstrong with Mike Dirnt] Dear mother, can you hear me laughing? It's been six whole months since that I have left your home It makes me wonder why I'm still here For some strange reason it's now feeling like my home And I'm never gonna go [Chorus: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, both] (Ah) Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes Some call it slums, some call it nice (Ah) I want to take you through a wasteland I like to call my home Welcome to paradise [Outro: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt] Dont smoke the brown weed Go green bud, god damn it Well, the reason why everybody freaked out- out because of the brown acid 'cause it was the best shit Can't do the crime, don't do the time Wait a minute, I said that backwards, I must fix it Look at you fucking dirty motherfuckers Hippie Oh can you do one thing for me, and I, I-I swear to God I'll leave you alone? Starting on that side, can you do the wave? This isn't a fucking baseball game, what the hell? Oh, okay, thanks
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Credits
- Writers
- Mike Dirnt
- Tré Cool
- Billie Joe Armstrong