| I’m the son of rage and love
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| The Jesus of Suburbia
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| From the bible of «none of the above»
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| On a steady diet of
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| Soda pop and Ritalin
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| No one ever died for my sins in hell
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| As far as I can tell
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| At least the ones I got away with
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| And there’s nothing wrong with me
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| This is how I’m supposed to be
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| In the land of make believe
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| That don’t believe in me
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| Get my television fix
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| Sitting on my crucifix
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| The living room in my private womb
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| While the moms and Brads are away
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| To fall in love and fall in debt
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| To alcohol and cigarettes and
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| Mary Jane
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| To keep me insane
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| And doing someone else’s cocaine
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| And there’s nothing wrong with me
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| This is how I’m supposed to be
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| In a land of make believe
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| That don’t believe in me
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| At the center of the Earth in the parking lot
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| Of the 7−11 where I was taught
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| The motto was just a lie
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| It says «home is where your heart is,» but what a shame
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| Cause everyone’s heart doesn’t beat the same
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| It’s beating out of time
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| City of the dead
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| At the end of another lost highway
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| Signs misleading to nowhere
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| City of the damned
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| Lost children with dirty faces today
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| No one really seems to care
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| I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall
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| Like the holy scriptures of the shopping mall
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| And so it seemed to confess
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| It didn’t say much, but it only confirmed
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| That the center of the earth is the end of the world
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| And I could really care less
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| City of the dead
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| At the end of another lost highway
|
| Signs misleading to nowhere
|
| City of the damned
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| Lost children with dirty faces today
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| No one really seems to care
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| I don’t care if you don’t
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| I don’t care if you don’t
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| I don’t care if you don’t care
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| I don’t care if you don’t
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| I don’t care if you don’t
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| I don’t care if you don’t care
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| I don’t care
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| Everyone is so full of shit
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| Born and raised by hypocrites
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| Hearts recycled but never saved
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| From the cradle to the grave
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| We are the kids of war and peace
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| From Anaheim to the middle east
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| We are the stories and disciples of
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| The Jesus of Suburbia
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| Land of make believe
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| And that don’t believe in me
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| Land of make believe
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| And I don’t believe
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| And I don’t care!
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| I don’t care!
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| I don’t care!
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| I don’t care!
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| I don’t care!
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| Dearly beloved, are you listening?
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| I can’t remember a word that you were saying
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| Are we demented or am I disturbed?
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| The space that’s in between insane and insecure
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| Oh, therapy, can you please fill the void?
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| Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?
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| Nobody’s perfect and I stand accused
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| For lack of a better word, and that’s my best excuse
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| Part 5: Tales Of Another Broken Home]
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| To live and not to breathe
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| Is to die in tragedy
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| To run, to run away
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| To find what you believe
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| And I leave behind
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| This hurricane of fucking lies
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| I lost my faith to this
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| This town that don’t exist
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| So I run, I run away
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| To the light of masochist
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| And I leave behind
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| This hurricane of fucking lies
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| And I walked this line
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| A million and one fucking times
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| But not this time
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| I don’t feel any shame, I won’t apologize
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| When there ain’t nowhere you can go
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| Running away from pain when you’ve been victimized
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| Tales from another broken… home
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| You’re leaving…
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| You’re leaving…
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| You’re leaving…
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| Ah you’re leaving home… |