Born into Nixon, I was raised in hell.
A welfare child
Where the teamsters dwelled.
The last one born,
The first one to run.
My town was blind from the refinery sun.
My generation is zero.
I never made it
As a working class hero.
21st century breakdown.
I once was lost but never was found.
I think I'm losing what's left of my mind
To the 20th century deadline.
I was made of poison and blood.
Condemnation is what I understood.
Videogames of the tower's fall.
Homeland security
Could kill us all.
My generation is zero.
I never made it
As a working class hero.
21st century breakdown.
I once was lost but never was found.
I think I'm losing what's left of my mind
To the 20th century deadline.
We are the class of 13.
Born in the era of humility.
We are the desperate and in the decline.
Raised by the bastards of 1969.
My name is no-one,
The long lost son.
Born on the 4th of July.
Raised in an era of heros and cons.
That left me for dead or alive.
I am a nation,
A worker, a pawn.
My debt to the status quo.
The scars on my hands
And the means to an end.
Is all that I have to show.
I swallowed my pride
And I choked on my faith.
I've given my heart and my soul.
I've broken my fingers
And lied throgh my teeth.
The pilllar of damage control.
I've been to the edge
And I've thrown the bouqet
Of flowers left over the grave.
I sat in the waiting room
Wasting my time
And waiting for judgement day.
I praise liberty
The "freedom to obey"
Is the song that strangles me.
Don't cross the line.
Dream, America dream,
I can't even sleep
From the light's early dawn.
Scream, America scream.
Believe what you see
From heros and cons?
Writer(s): Billie Joe Armstrong, Tre Cool, Mike Dirnt
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