A/N: Hello, and welcome to another chapter of my albumfic thingy. Yet again, Jimmy is reflecting on stuff. I suppose this would almost be like his journal or something, I don't know. Um, anyway, I don't yet know if anything in this chapter will be controversial, but if it is, I mentioned it already and stuff. Now, TO CHAPTER TWO! Which will be much longer than chapter one, since this song is much longer to begin with…

P.S.: He's a bit high while writing the first part…

DISCLAIMER: Green Day owns all lyrics!! Every last one.

CHAPTER TWO:

JESUS OF SUBURBIA

Part One

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.

Some people say that I was the son of rage and love, but I disagree. I was the son of something, but I'm not going there. In my opinion, I'm kind of like Jesus. Like a Jesus of the suburbs…I got it. Jesus of Suburbia. That's what I am. I live off of coca cola and Ritalin. I don't have ADD if that's what you're asking. I'm just your average teen with issues. No one ever died for me, like people did for the guy who said he was the son of God or whatever, at least, I think. I don't know. I'm not that religious. I don't like all the rules it gives you. I'm pretty sure I'm going to rot in hell for half of my sins…the other half of me will go to heaven, cuz I got away with half my sins too.

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

There really isn't anything wrong with me you know. This is how I am, and it's how I'm supposed to be. It's my land of make believe, where I'm safe, and where Kelli's here with me. No one in the land of make believe believes in me though, but that's ok. As long as everyone there knows I'm Jesus of Suburbia, they don't have to believe in me. That's ok.

Get my television fix sitting on my crucifix
The living room or my private womb
While the moms and brads 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

I'll just sit on my couch, or crucifix, since I am Jesus, and just watch the TV, rotting my brains out while mum and my stepbastard are out doing whatever it is they do. Probably going out to fall in love with different people, and then fall into debt because of the divorce. The only things that keep me moderately sane are alcohol, cigarettes, and Kelli. Cocaine helps some days too, but not as much as Kelli. Kelli is my shining star who keeps me sane.

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

There really isn't anything wrong with me. It may seem like it, because of the way I dress, the way I act, and the way I do things, but there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just floating in my land of make believe, wishing Kelli would get back from school so we could both float in my land of make believe…

Part Two

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
It's beating out of time

If the center of the Earth was a place, I'd have to say it would be the 7-11 parking lot in my town. There's a motto there, which is complete bullshit. It claims that home is where your heart is, but not everyone's heart beats the same, and not everyone likes being at home. Some people despise their house with their entire being. Like me.

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

This city is like one of the dead. It's at the end of a highway which almost no one ever travels. The signs have all been mixed up, so they lead nowhere. This city is like one of the damned. We're all lost children, looking for love, but no one ever 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

The walls in the bathroom are plastered with graffiti. When you read them, it's hard to actually read the original. It never says anything worth paying attention to, but it always said that the center of the Earth was the end of the world, but who gives a fuck anyway? Once the end of the world comes, then everyone in this godforsaken town will finally get what they deserve.

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

This city of the dead is at the end of a deserted highway, with misplaced signs and people who are all damned to hell because they don't care about their children, since everyone only cares about themselves nowadays. If they don't have time for us, then we'll just be whatever we want and we'll do whatever we want.

Part Three

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
I don't care

Honestly, if no one cares anymore, then why should I care about them? If people don't care if anything happens to you, why should you care if anything happens to them? I just don't care.

Everyone is 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

Everyone in this God damn town is so full of shit, since everyone here was raised by hypocrites, so everyone here is a hypocrite. Everyone's heart has been recycled, but no one's heart is ever the same. We're all kids of peace and we're all kids of war, from Anaheim, the god damn town I hate, to the middle east, who'll get nuked pretty soon anyway. Everyone is their own story and half of them are my disciples. Jesus of Suburbia reigns again now and forever.

Land of make believe
That don't believe in me
Land of make believe
And I don't believe
And I don't care!
I don't care!

I'll take them all to my land of make believe, even though they don't believe in me. In this land of make believe, I've even stopped believing in me, but I don't care anymore. No one gives a god damn shit.

Part Four

Dearly Beloved

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

Earlier today when I was hanging with Kelli, I realized I hadn't heard or remembered a word she had been saying. I remember interrupting her asking if we were both demented. She laughed and said no, but I was disturbed, right in between insane and insecure. That's where I was.

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

Everyone thinks that therapy will help me fill the non-existing void in my life. I don't understand it though. No one's perfect, and yet I'm accused of being violent and dysfunctional. Everyone in the is god damn down is. That's my excuse. It always has been, and it always will be.

Part Five

Tales of Another Broken Home

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

When you live and the only way your breathing is through a machine since you can't do it yourself is like dying in tragedy. To run away from everything you knew to find something, anything to believe in, is what life is all about. As I run, I'm leaving behind all the fucking lies everyone ever told me, including Kelli. I lost my faith in everyone and everything in the town that exists to only us.

So I run
I run away
To the light of masochist
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 run and run and run away, to the lights in the distance, belonging to the masochist, while I leave behind everyone and everything that ever lied to me. As I walk along the train tracks, I follow the line I've walked a million and one times. But this time, I'm actually leaving. I'm not just playing a game with Frank, Kelli and Seth. 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

I don't feel that bad that I'm leaving without saying good bye. I've never apologized in my entire life. When you run out of places to go, the only thing you can do is run away from all the pain. When you've become a victim in your own home, then you've become just another story from another broken home.

You're leaving...
You're leaving...
You're leaving...
Ah you're leaving home...

So I'm leaving this time, and I really mean it. Maybe if I say it to myself enough times, I can actually go through with it. I stop to look back at the small Californian town I live in, and I feel a prickling sensation at the corners of my eyes. I can't do this. I wont' run away from everything. But I am leaving home.

A/N: FINALLY! This took me at LEAST twenty five minutes. I was being distracted by so many different things. Chapter three will be next, and I have no idea how that one will be. Hopefully, it'll be as good at the previous two. LaTeR.