Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Billie Joe Armstrong
Billie Joe Armstrong
Guitar
Mike Dirnt
Mike Dirnt
Background Vocals
Tré Cool
Tré Cool
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Billie Joe Armstrong
Billie Joe Armstrong
Songwriter
Frank Edwin III Wright ​
Songwriter
Michael Pritchard
Michael Pritchard
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Green Day
Green Day
Producer
Chris Dugan
Chris Dugan
Additional Engineer
Reto Peter
Reto Peter
Additional Engineer
Brian "Dr. Vibb" Vibberts
Brian "Dr. Vibb" Vibberts
Assistant Engineer
Doug McKean
Doug McKean
Recording Engineer
Ted Jensen
Ted Jensen
Mastering Engineer
Chris Lord-Alge
Chris Lord-Alge
Mixing Engineer
Rob Cavallo
Rob Cavallo
Producer
Dmitar Krnjaic
Dmitar Krnjaic
Assistant Engineer
Greg Burns
Greg Burns
Assistant Engineer
Jimmy Hoyson
Jimmy Hoyson
Assistant Engineer
Joe Brown
Joe Brown
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

Starry nights, city of lights coming down over me Skyscrapers, stargazers in my head Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting unknown This dirty town was burning down in my dreams Lost and found, city bound in my dreams And screaming, ("Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting") And screaming, ("Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting") Forget me nots, second thoughts live in isolation Heads or tails, fairytales in my mind Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting unknown The rage and love, the story of my life The Jesus of Suburbia is a lie And screaming, ("Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting") And screaming, ("Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting unknown") (Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting) And screaming, ("Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting unknown") (Are we, we are, are we, we are the waiting unknown) St. Jimmy's coming down across the alleyway Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade Lights on the silhouette He's insubordinate Coming at you on the count of one, two (One, two, three, four!) My name is Jimmy, and you better not wear it out Suicide commando that your momma talked about King of the forty thieves, and I'm here to represent The needle in the vein of the establishment I'm the patron saint of the denial With an angel face, and a taste for suicidal Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allen Poe Raised in the city in the halo of lights Product of war and fear that we've been victimized I'm the patron saint of the denial With an angel face, and a taste for suicidal Are you talking to me? I'll give you something to cry about! St. Jimmy! My name is St. Jimmy, I'm a son of a gun (ooh, ooh) I'm the one that's from the way outside, now (ooh, ooh, ooh, St. Jimmy) A teenage assassin executing some fun (ooh, ooh) In the cult of the life of crime, now (ooh, ooh, ooh, St. Jimmy) I really hate to say it, but I told you so (ooh, ooh) So shut your mouth before I shoot you down old boy (ooh, ooh, ooh, St. Jimmy) Welcome to the club, and give me some blood (ooh, ooh) I'm the resident leader of the lost and found (ooh, ooh, ooh, St. Jimmy) It's comedy And tragedy It's St. Jimmy And that's my name And don't wear it out!
Writer(s): Billie Joe Armstrong, Green Day, Mike Dirnt, Tré Cool Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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