Album: American Idiot
Written by Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, & Tre Cool
I. JESUS OF SUBURBIA
Im 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
But theres nothing wrong with me,
This is how Im supposed to be,
In a land of make believe,
That dont believe in me
Get my television fix,
Sitting on my crucifix,
The living room in 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 and doing someone elses cocaine
II. 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 everyones heart,
Doesnt beat the same,
Were 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 in a shopping mall,
And so it seemed to confess,
It didnt say much,
But it only confirmed that,
The center of the earth,
Is the end of the world
And I could really care less
III. I DONT CARE
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont care
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont care
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont care
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont,
I dont care if you dont 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 dont believe in me,
Land of make believe,
And I dont believe,
And I dont care!
IV. DEARLY BELOVED
Dearly beloved, are you listening?
I cant remember a word that you were saying,
Are we demented? Or am I disturbed?
The space thats in between insane and insecure
Oh therapy can you please fill the void?
Am I Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?
Nobodys perfect and I stand accused,
For the lack of a better word, and thats my best excuse
V. TALES FROM 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 dont exist
So I run,
I run away
To the light of masochists,
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 dont feel any shame,
I wont apologize
When there aint nowhere you can go,
Running away from pain,
When youve been victimized,
Tales from another broken home
Youre leaving...
Youre leaving...
Youre leaving...
Ah youre leaving home...
