Olden Days

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 how the finish felt abrupt to me
The captain ran us aground, but nothing's all it's cracked up to be
Nostalgia never forgets our worst regrets, 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 (From the body of the)
Yeah, let olden days stay old
I said yeah (Yeah)
I said yeah (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
Olden days