| Song | Nostalgia |
| Artist | This Routine is Hell |
| Album | black coffee volume 1 |
| Dirty hands, blistered feet, | |
| playing in the sun but now we’re feeling the heat. | |
| Summer in the suburbs, safe and sound, | |
| knowing what it’s like: nostalgia brings us down. | |
| Nostalgia burns. | |
| We’ve roamed the streets, always out of luck. | |
| The glory days, but now we’re sobering up. | |
| Scraped our knees to the barren ground. | |
| It’s only skin, but nostalgia keeps us down. | |
| Yet we still raise our fists to the heedless skies. | |
| We piss on god, our ethos never dies. | |
| Nostalgia burns. | |
| Nostalgia hurts. | |
| Nostalgia flirts. | |
| Nostalgia fucks us up. |
| Dirty hands, blistered feet, | |
| playing in the sun but now we' re feeling the heat. | |
| Summer in the suburbs, safe and sound, | |
| knowing what it' s like: nostalgia brings us down. | |
| Nostalgia burns. | |
| We' ve roamed the streets, always out of luck. | |
| The glory days, but now we' re sobering up. | |
| Scraped our knees to the barren ground. | |
| It' s only skin, but nostalgia keeps us down. | |
| Yet we still raise our fists to the heedless skies. | |
| We piss on god, our ethos never dies. | |
| Nostalgia burns. | |
| Nostalgia hurts. | |
| Nostalgia flirts. | |
| Nostalgia fucks us up. |