Every time I think about the past
A blurry formless face is starring back
Telling me the story of my life
Saying I'm the hero everytime
Feels so nice to think that it's all true
Even if I know I can disprove
It's a bandage for my cosmic ills
Never mind I caused them all myself

That Nostalgia, hell of a drug
Let it wash over you

Never want to have to tally up
Every single time that I was wrong
Cuz I know that it greatly outweighs
Times where what I did was the right thing
I can make a better narrative
One where I'm absolved and forgiven
It'd be so easy to have it replace
The real one full of error and disgrace

That Nostalgia, hell of a drug
Let it wash over you

A vortex opens up beneath the truth
Filled with edits all designed to sooth
It winds its way around and wanders off
No hard edges, all completely soft
Filled with faces that can only smile
Telling me more gentle, happy lies
I know that it's all purely fantasy
But must confess it's just so appealing

That Nostalgia, hell of a drug
Let it wash over you