Green Day - Jesus Of Suburbia (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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Green Day - Jesus Of Suburbia (en) Lyrics
I saw you with him.
You saw who?
Don't fucking lie to me.
What do you want from me Jimmy?
I'm fucking him.
What was I to you?
What the fuck was I to you?
A friend, someone I loved,
and a fucking memory.
A beautiful fucking memory.
You know what? I don't love you.
You don't even get to be a memory.
Nice fucking tattoo then.
Fuck you!
Oh what you're gonna come after me?
Fuck you.
You are fucking just a pair of tits.
That's all you've ever been to me.
Go. Go!
I'm the son of rage and love
The Jesus of Suburbia
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 that 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 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
Doing someone else's cocaine
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
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 Anaheim to the Middle East
We are the stories and disciples of
Land of make believe
And it don't believe in me
And I don't believe
And I don't care!
I don't care!
What's the matter with you?
Your face.
Oh.
Well it must be easy sitting
there, all high and mighty,
the king of shit mountain.
Shit mountain, that's exactly
what this fucking place is.
This disgusting house that we live in.
And you know what the sickest
part of it is?
You come in here every Goddamn
morning and you give
me the same, sick look.
What look is that?
You look at me like I'm the loser.
Yeah you sit there with your fucking
scratch-off lottery tickets.
You think, oh maybe, maybe tomorrow
it's all gonna change.
You're never gonna fucking
get the right numbers.
Are you done?
Who gave you the right to start shit?
What are you, Jesus nailed to
that couch, suffering for my
sins and I'm the loser?
That makes you the son of a loser.
You fucking moron.
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
(Ooh)
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 lights of masochists
And I, leave behind
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
Oh you're leaving
You're leaving
Are you leaving home?
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