"Pedras no caminho? Guardo-as todas, um dia vou construir um castelo... " Fernando Pessoa

29
Set 08

 

 

Part I


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

Who don't believe in me



Get my television fix

Sitting on my crucifix

The living room on my private womb

While the Moms & 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


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 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 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 in 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 care

Part III


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 (4x)


I don't care.....


Everyone is so full of shi

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

And I don't believe

And I don't care! (5x)


Part IV


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 insecu

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 V


Tales of another broken home


To live, and not to breath

Is to die, in tragedy

To run, to run away to find what to believe

And I leave behind this hurricane of fucking lie

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 wont 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...

You're leaving home.

publicado por Quem ontem fui já hoje em mim não vive às 21:33

comentário:
gosto desta música!
Ana Lúcia a 5 de Outubro de 2008 às 18:05

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