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
American Idiot
Beyond
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
The Jesus of suburbia
Damaged
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
Letterbomb
Where have all the bastards gone?
The underbelly stacks up ten high
The dummy failed the crash test
Collecting unemployment checks
Like a flunkie along for the ride
Where have all the riots gone?
As your city’s motto gets pulverized
What’s in love is now in debt
On your birth certificate
So strike the fucking match to light this fuse
The town bishop is an extortionist
And he don’t even know that you exist
Standing still when it’s do or die
You better run for your fucking life
You’re not the Jesus of Suburbia
The St. Jimmy is a figment of
Your father’s rage and your mother’s love
Made me the idiot America
It’s not over ’till you’re underground
It’s not over before it’s too late
This city’s burnin’
It’s not my burden
It’s not over before it’s too late
Give Me Novacaine
Take away the sensation inside
Bitter sweet migraine in my head
It’s like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind
I can’t take this feeling anymore
Drain the pressure from the swelling
The sensation’s overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight and everything will be alright
Tell me that I won’t feel a thing
So give me Novacaine
Out of body and out of mind
Kiss the demons out of my dreams
I get the funny feeling, that’s alright
Jimmy says it’s better than here
I’ll tell you why
Drain the pressure from the swelling
The sensation’s overwhelming
Give me a long kiss goodnight and everything will be alright
Tell me that I won’t feel a thing
So give me Novacaine
St. Jimmy
St. Jimmy’s comin’ down across the alleyway
Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade
Light of a silhouette
He’s insubordinate
Coming at you on the count of one, two (one, two, three, four)
My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out
Suicide commando that your momma talked about
King of the forty thieves
And I’m here to represent
That needle in the vein of the establishment
I’m the patron saint of the denial
With an angel face and a taste for suicidal
Cigarettes and Ramen and a little bag of dope
I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allan Poe
Raised in the city under a halo of lights
The product of war and fear that we’ve been victimized
I’m the patron saint of the denial
With an angel face and a taste for suicidal
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 Mom’s and Brad’s 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
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 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
The Jesus of Suburbia
Land of make believe
And it don’t believe in me
Land of make believe
And it don’t believe
And I don’t care!
I don’t care!
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
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
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
Wake Me Up When September Ends
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are
As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
Boulevard of Broken Dream
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I’m the only one and I walk alone
My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
‘Til then I walk alone…
wasted 