A Matter of Course and Policy
It felt like a dream
At least a hundred lifetimes ago
When I was young and I was full of hope
I could hold my head up and
I could greet the day
And I could hold on to greatness
Impulses die
They fade away
Architecture on fault lines
And beds made in graves
Worship ourselves
Our own improvements
Dead end delights
Dead institutions
Of greed
Of greed
I know it's inside of me
I know it's inside of me
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Impulses die
They fade away
Architecture on fault lines
And beds made in graves
Worship ourselves
Our own improvements
Dead end delights
Dead institutions
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
When you're forced down the wrong path
You can see the blood in the soil
It's death consumes your heart
Your life has found its toil
I wouldn't be who I am now
Without your deceit, your clouded truth
Thanks for giving me this fresh hell
Thanks for killing the last of my youth
This is not an admission of guilt
It's accepting what you've done
Understanding what you built
Is knowing what you've become
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to be alive
At least a hundred lifetimes ago
When I was young and I was full of hope
I could hold my head up and
I could greet the day
And I could hold on to greatness
Impulses die
They fade away
Architecture on fault lines
And beds made in graves
Worship ourselves
Our own improvements
Dead end delights
Dead institutions
Of greed
Of greed
I know it's inside of me
I know it's inside of me
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Impulses die
They fade away
Architecture on fault lines
And beds made in graves
Worship ourselves
Our own improvements
Dead end delights
Dead institutions
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
Bury my head
Bury my head in my hands
When you're forced down the wrong path
You can see the blood in the soil
It's death consumes your heart
Your life has found its toil
I wouldn't be who I am now
Without your deceit, your clouded truth
Thanks for giving me this fresh hell
Thanks for killing the last of my youth
This is not an admission of guilt
It's accepting what you've done
Understanding what you built
Is knowing what you've become
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to be alive
Credits
Writer(s): Evan Warren
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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