Quoted By:
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
'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
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 dead (hey! Hey!)
At the end of another lost highway (hey! Hey!)
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned (hey! Hey!)
Lost children with dirty faces today (hey! Hey!)
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 (hey! Hey!)
At the end of another lost highway (hey! Hey!)
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned (hey! Hey!)
Lost children with dirty faces today (hey! Hey!)
No one really seems to care...
