jueves, 8 de julio de 2010

Jesus of suburbia ♫

I'm the son of rage and love the Jesus of suburbia. Soda pop and Ritalin. No one ever died for my sins in hell.
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. Doing someone else's cocaine.
At the center of the Earth, in the parking lot, of the 7-11 were 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.
Everyone's so full of shit born and raised by hypocrits. Hearts recycled but never saved  from the cradle to the grave.We are the kids of war and peace. 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. 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. 

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Comenta por que si no mando a Barney a tu casa para que abra la canilla de agua caliente mientras te bañas.