Children gather around and let me tell you of the olden days
Nostalgia forms a surround, and all is filtered through a golden haze
But that haze burns away, and it's cliché
But now it's never been clearer
That we don't recognize, through sober eyes
The face we see in the mirror
In the mirror, yeah
Nostalgia is a drug, a thieving little thug
That lies about what never can last
And we're drowning in its flood
Bathing in the blood
That's pouring from the corpse of the past
From the body of the olden days
Children let me expound on [C7]how the finish felt abrupt to [C7]me
The captain ɾan us aground
But nothing's all [Em]it's cracked up to [C7]be
Nostalgia never forgets our worst ɾegrets
Though we could never admit it
Because, oh, heaven forbid
The things we did outweigh the things that we didn't
That we didn't, yeah
Olden days
From the body of the olden days
Yeah, let olden days stay old
I said yeah
I said yeah
I said yeah, yeah, yeah
Nostalgia is a drug
Thieving little thug, lying in the grass, pouring from the past
And we're drowning in the flood
Bathing in the blood, pouring from the past
From the body of the olden days