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