Somebody keep my balance
I think I’m falling off
Into a state of regression
The expiration date
Rapidly coming up
It’s leaving me behind to rank
Always move forward
Going straight will get you nowhere
There is no progress
Evolution killed it all
I found my place in nowhere
I’m taking one step sideways
Leading with my crutch
Got a fucked up equilibrium
Count down from nine to five
Hooray, we’re gonna die
Blessed into our extinction
I’m having trouble trying to sleep
I’m counting sheep but running out
As time ticks by, and still I try
No rest for crosstops in my mind
On my own, here we go
My eyes feel like they’re gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
My mouth is dry, my face is numb
Fucked up and spun out in my room
On my own, here we go
My mind is set on overdrive
The clock is laughing in my face
A crooked spine, my senses dulled
Passed the point of delirium
On my own, here we go
My eyes feel like they’re gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
My mouth is dry, my face is numb
Fucked up and spun out in my room
On my own, here we go
I sit around and watch the tube, but nothing’s on
I change the channels for an hour or two
Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit
I’m sick of all the same old shit
In a house with unlocked doors
And I’m fucking lazy
Bite my lip and close my eyes
Take me away to paradise
I’m so damn bored, I’m going blind
And I smell like shit
Peel me off this Velcro seat and get me moving
I sure as hell can’t do it by myself
I’m feeling like a dog in heat
Barred indoors from the summer street
I locked the door to my own cell
And I lost the key
Bite my lip and close my eyes
Take me away to paradise
I’m so damn bored, I’m going blind
And I smell like shit
I got no motivation
Where is my motivation
No time for motivation
Smoking my inspiration
I sit around and watch the phone, but no one’s calling
Call me pathetic, call me what you will
My mother says to get a job
But she don’t like the one she’s got
When masturbation’s lost its fun
You’re fucking lonely
Bite my lip and close my eyes
Take me away to paradise
I’m so damn bored, I’m going blind
And loneliness has to suffice
Bite my lip and close my eyes
Slipping away to paradise
Some say, quit or I’ll go blind
But it’s just a myth
My generation is zero
I never made it as a working class hero
21st century breakdown
I once was lost but never was found
I think I’m losing what’s left of my mind
To the 20th century deadline
People try to put us d-down (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we get around (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
Why don’t you all f-fade away (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Don’t try to dig what we all s-s-s-say (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m not trying to ’cause a big s-s-sensation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-g-generation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
My generation
This is my generation, baby
As soon as you’re born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you’re clever and they despise a fool
Till you’re so fucking crazy you can’t follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
When they’ve tortured and scared you for twenty-odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can’t really function you’re so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you’re so clever and classless and free
But you’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
There’s room at the top they’re telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right
I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind
Hang them on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right
I hope you had the time of your life
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
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’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
wasted 