LETTERBOMB

Where have all the bastards gone? The underbelly stacks up ten high. The dummy failed the crash test, now collecting unemployment checks like a flunkie along for the ride. Where have all the riots gone as the city's motto gets puluerized? “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. It's not over till you're underground. It's not over before it's too late. This city's burning “It's not my burden.” It's not over before it's too late, there is 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? You're not the Jesus of Suburbia The St. Jimmy is a figument of your father's rage and your mother's love. MADE ME THE IDIOT AMERICA. IT'S NOT OVER 'TIL YOU'RE UNDERGROUND. IT'S NOT OVER BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE THIS CITY'S BURNING. “IT'S NOT MY BURDEN” IT'S NOT OVER BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE SHE SAID “I CAN'T TAKE THIS PLACE, I'M LEAVING IT BEHIND.” SHE SAID “I CAN'T TAKE THIS TOWN, I'M LEAVING YOU TONIGHT”