Nobody likes youâŠ
Everyone left youâŠ
Theyâre all out without youâŠ
Having funâŠ
Where have all the bastards gone?
The underbellyâs accidental high
The dummy failed the crash test
Collecting unemployment checks
Youâre fucking only along for the ride
Where have all the riots gone?
As your cityâs model gets pulverized
Whatâs in love is now in debt
On your birth certificate
So strike the fucking match to light this fuse
The televisionâs an obstructionist
And you donât even know that you exist
Stand still wish to die
You better run for your fucking life
Itâs not over âtill your underground
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Itâs cities burninâ
Itâs not my burden
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Thereâs nothing left to analyze
Where will all the martyrs go when the virus cures itself?
And where will we all go when itâs too late?
And donât look back
Youâre not the Jesus of Suburbia
The St. Jimmyâs opinion of
Your fatherâs rage and your motherâs love
Thatâs made the idiot America
Itâs not over âtill your underground
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Itâs cities burninâ
Itâs not my burden
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
She said I canât take this place
Iâm leaving it behind
Well she said I canât take this town
Iâm leaving you tonight
Everyone left youâŠ
Theyâre all out without youâŠ
Having funâŠ
Where have all the bastards gone?
The underbellyâs accidental high
The dummy failed the crash test
Collecting unemployment checks
Youâre fucking only along for the ride
Where have all the riots gone?
As your cityâs model gets pulverized
Whatâs in love is now in debt
On your birth certificate
So strike the fucking match to light this fuse
The televisionâs an obstructionist
And you donât even know that you exist
Stand still wish to die
You better run for your fucking life
Itâs not over âtill your underground
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Itâs cities burninâ
Itâs not my burden
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Thereâs nothing left to analyze
Where will all the martyrs go when the virus cures itself?
And where will we all go when itâs too late?
And donât look back
Youâre not the Jesus of Suburbia
The St. Jimmyâs opinion of
Your fatherâs rage and your motherâs love
Thatâs made the idiot America
Itâs not over âtill your underground
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
Itâs cities burninâ
Itâs not my burden
Itâs not hope before itâs too late
She said I canât take this place
Iâm leaving it behind
Well she said I canât take this town
Iâm leaving you tonight
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar