...- это метафора, типа "послание, подарок-сюрприз, бомба"!
Nobody likes you... Everyone left you... They're all out without you... Having fun...
Where have all the bastards gone? The underbelly stacks up ten high The dummy failed the crash test Collecting unemployment checks Like a flunky along for a ride Where have all the riots gone As your city's model 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
Chorus: It's not over 'till your underground It's not over before it's too late It's cities burnin', it's not my burden It's not over before it's too late
There's nothing left to analyze
Where will all the martyrs go When the virus cures itself? And where will we all go When it's too late?
And don't look back
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
Chorus...
She said I can't take this place I'm leaving it behind Well she said I can't take this town I'm leaving you tonight