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 on my private womb While the moms and Brads are away To fall in love, to 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 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 damned 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 And all 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 damned 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 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 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 I don't believe in me I don't care! I don't care! I don't care! I don't care! 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? The space that's in between insane and insecure (oooooooooooooooooooooooooo) 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, to die in tragedy To run, to run away, to fight what you believe And I leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies I lost my faith to this, this town that doesn't exist So I run, I run away to the lights of masochists And I leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies And I walk 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 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