Bm Welcome, my son,A To where the work is never doneF# G And the hungry are seldom ever fed.Bm The department of false hopeA Is a proving ground for dopes.D E F# And they'll grind your tiny bones to make their bread. (Hosanna.)G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man.G D A F# C# D Tomorrow won't be made for you.G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.G A D For god and man, there's nothing more to do.Bm It crackled on the radioA Through bright plumes of the sun.F# G The announcer said the age of faith was dead.Bm Though the adolescent nationA Was just looking for salvation,D E F# The beast of reason reared its ugly head. (Hosanna.)G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man.G D A F# C# D Tomorrow's not for me and you.G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.G A D For god and man, there's nothing more to do.BmAF# GBmAD E F#G From your cradle of destruction,A With the poorest of instructionBm A G And the merest sliver of a tune,F# C# D Oh, you managed somehow to muddle through.G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man.G D A F# C# D Tomorrow's not for me and you.G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.G A D Bm For god and man, there's nothing more to do.G A There is nothing more...
Dept Of False Hope
Bad Religion
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Tom: