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 doesn't 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 keeping 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 doesn't believe that don't believe in me

Like the center of the earth
In the parking lot
Of the 7-11 were 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 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
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

[Repeat: x4]
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 cradle to the grave

We are the kids of war and peace
From England 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

[Repeat: x5]
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?
That 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

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 másochist
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 we can go
Running away from pain
When we've been victimized
Tales from another broken
Home

Writer : ARMSTRONG, BILLIE JOE / WRIGHT, FRANK E., III / PRITCHARD, MICHAEL
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.