Second Family Portrait
Radical Face Lyrics

My life started slow in a town of idle minds
I grew up in a small town where everyone seemed content with a slow-paced life

Our daydreams filled the space
Our imaginations were the only things that made life interesting

Between our simple drama
Despite the monotony, we still had small problems and conflicts

And my mom was strange
My mother had peculiar habits that set her apart

But she'd always liked to sew
She found pleasure in sewing, creating something out of nothing

And all my clothes smelled like the Room I was born in
She made my clothes, and they reminded me of my birthplace - a memory I cherished

My dad was calm
My father was a steady and collected person

Never used two words when one would do
He was a man of few words who didn't waste time on idle chatter

And my brother's hands
My brother was always up to something

Were mischief-bent with
He had a mischievous streak that was hard to miss

No will to stop 'em
He didn't have the desire to reign in his behavior

And on the whole we lived
But overall, we lived uneventful and ordinary lives

Simply and day to day
We took each day as it came, without any grandiose plans or expectations

Our fears were trivial
The things we were afraid of were small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things

They always died with every sunset
Our fears dissipated at the end of each day, as we let go of our worries and found peace in the moment

When I was twelve my affliction came to light
At twelve, I started experiencing a mental illness that changed my life

And I was told that some things I
I was informed that some things I experienced were not real

Heard were only there in my head
My mind was creating illusions that I could not distinguish from reality

But I couldn't tell which were
I struggled to differentiate between what was real and what was not

Real and which were not
I had difficulty recognizing what was fact and what was fiction

And the question loomed over all I
This uncertainty hung over everything I did

Did whether i could trust it
I questioned whether I could trust my own senses and perceptions

And I guess over time it became too much
This struggle with reality became too much for me to bear

And I was sent away at my mom's
My mother, unable to cope with my illness, sent me away for treatment

Behest because she'd grown to fear me
She feared for my well-being and for the safety of those around me

Now I live up north in the
Now, I reside in a northern town, far from my former home

House full of broken heads
I live in a mental health facility with others who struggle with their own mental illnesses

And my father comes and visit's me
Despite the distance and difficulty, my father makes an effort to visit me

Whenever he can afford it
He does what he can to be there for me, even when it's difficult

Sometimes at night when the voices quiet down
Occasionally, when the noise in my head subsides, I find peace

I find a hope that I'm missed
I cling to the hope that someone out there thinks of me

And that they haven't forgot me
I hold onto the belief that people still remember me and care about my well-being