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    September 07

    confusione - Jesus of suburbia

    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 or 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 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

    [Part 2: 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 a 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 careeeeee

    [Part 3: 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 careeeeeeeeee

    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
    That don't believe in me
    Land of make believe
    And I don't believe
    And I don't care!
    I don't care!

    [Part 4: 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 lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse

    [Part 5: 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
    To the light of masochist
    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 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...
     
     
     
     

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