History is written by the winners
Passed down through faded memories and wistful sighs
All the fire and the fury, all the blood and gold and glory
And the story gets eroded with time

Call up a war just to declare yourself the hero
Ensure your children always hear your righteous cry
You'll sign your name to the account
Then steal the page to cross it out
Rewrite the narrative before the ink is dry

Prestige and notoriety
It all sounds the same
You'll join the ranks to write it off
And call it growing pains

Can you name a sin in which you aren't complicit?
Testify against your litany of crimes?
Deceit and false flag victories oversee the shining sea
All the ugly truth you've hidden is brought to light

Was it not greed that blazed in New York in the factories?
And gluttony that stole the pigeons from the sky?
Did wrath and envy raise you up a thief and liar?
Or was it just the crowning jewel of all your pride?

Another day, another dollar, the price of progress you will say
You'll step in line, just write it off
And call it growing pains

And then the men who wrote the damn rules
Will descend and call it fair
You'll declare yourself the victor
With your thumb upon the scale
It's a time-honored tradition
You were born to carry on
It's just a king against the artist
With a sword against a song

Prestige and notoriety
It all just sounds the same
You'll join the ranks to write it off
And call it growing pains
Another day, another dollar, the price of progress you will say
You'll step in line, just write it off
And call it growing pains

You claim to manifest a destiny
When you pull the strings of fate
The sycophants will write it off
And call it growing pains
You sycophants will write it off
And call it growing pains