Jesus Of Suburbia

• 專輯：American Idiot (美國大白癡)
• 發行：2004-09-21
• 演唱：Green Day

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 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 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
City Of The Damned
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
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 caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare
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 it don't believe in me,
Land of make believe,
And I don't believe,
And I don't care!
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
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
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
The light of masochist
And I leave behind
This hurricane of fucking lies
And wrote this lie,
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