Lyrics

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 theres nothing wrong with me This is how im s'posed to be In a land of make believe That dont believe in me Get my television fix Sitting on my crucifix A 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 s'posed 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 said "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 (Hey! Hey!) At the end of another lost Highway (Hey! Hey!) Signs misleading to nowhere City of the Damned (Hey! Hey!) Lost children with dirty faces today (Hey! Hey!) No one really seems to care I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall Like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall 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 (Hey! Hey!) At the end of another lost highway (Hey! Hey!) Signs misleading to nowhere City of the Damned (Hey! Hey!) Lost children with dirty faces today (Hey! Hey!) 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'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 they dont believe in me Land of make believe And they dont believe in me And I Dont Care I Dont Care I Dont Care I Dont Care I Dont Care Dearly Beloved Are you listening? I can't remember a word that you were saying Are we demented or am i disturbed? The place thats in between is Sane 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 thats my best excuse To live and not to breathe To die in tragedy To run, to run away To find what you believe And i leave behind A hurricane of fucking lines My fate has led to this Some town that dont exist? So i run, i run away The lights of Masochist And i leave behind A hurricane of fucking lines But not this time I dont feel any shame i want to apologize When there ain't nowhere you can go Running away from pain when you've been victimized Tales from another broken home We're leaving We're leaving We're leaving Oh, We're leaving home