srijeda, 21.06.2006.
zadnji post....
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Pa ljudi moji kao sto znate, službeno u počeli i praznici a i ljeto. |
ponedjeljak, 05.06.2006.
Vračam se staroj sebi pomalo....
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Moji loši dani su iza mene i ne kanim ih ponovo ni vidjeti |
Dnevnik.hr
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lipanj, 2006
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I. 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 sodapop 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
but there´s nothing wrong with me
this is how i´m supposed to be
in the 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 & brad´s are away
to fall in love and fall in debt
to alcohol and cigarettes and mary jane
to keep me insane and doing someone else´s cocaine
II. City of the damned
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
we´re 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 holly scriptures in a shopping mall
and so it seemed to confess
it didn´t say much
but it only confirm that
the center of the earth is the end of the world
and i could really careless
III. I Don´t Care
I don´t care if you don´t
i don´t care if you don´t
i don´t care if you don´t care
Everyone is so full of shit!
born and raised by hypocrates
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 and
i don´t care !
IV. Dearly Beloved
Dearly beloved, are you listening?
i can´t remember the words you were saying
are we demented?
or am i disturbed?
the space that´s inbetween 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
V. Tales of another broken home
to live and not to breathe
is to die in tragedy
to run, to run away to find what to 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 light 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