Song | Family Portrait |
Artist | Radical Face |
Album | The Family Tree: The Roots |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
So we start with my father as a boy | |
Barely spoke a word of English | |
Fell in love from a distance | |
He watched her working from the back fence | |
He learned some words | |
And some clever turns of phrase | |
From his father’s book of poets | |
She wasn’t taken in that instant | |
But grew impressed with his persistence | |
They met each other out by moonlight | |
Made love in the nearby woods | |
Then the folks became suspicious | |
When her cycle broken so young (?) | |
They stole away without their goodbyes | |
Got married in a foreign town | |
Made their way as best as they could | |
Found jobs and settled down | |
And then time moved on | |
I was born in a river of blood | |
On sheets from the wedding day | |
The room was dark and the stench was thick | |
My father couldn’t stand the smell of it | |
Mama died in the night cos the nearest | |
Doctor couldn’t stem the blood loss | |
Father cried out on the back porch | |
My sister held me at the neighbor’s house | |
Oh my, there was a storm then | |
It was a flood of a different kind | |
Father’s eyes were often vacant | |
But his hands were rarely quiet | |
Sister learned to take her hits well | |
Both from life and the physical kind | |
But I was never one to lie down | |
Despite who picked the fight | |
So we designed our hells | |
Father turned into a drinker | |
A dark bastard with a wooden heart | |
Sister learned to be a mother | |
Before she’d ever played another part | |
And I became a little terror | |
I lashed out at whatever’s around | |
Took some time before I settled | |
And found a mind that was somewhat sound | |
And as it always does | |
Time rushed on | |
Six years later father died in the very same bedroom | |
Many said it was the grief that did it | |
I have to say it’s cos he hung himself | |
To be honest neither sister or myself | |
Ever much regret his passin’ | |
But I admit it was a nice thing | |
To always know that we could feed ourselves |
So we start with my father as a boy | |
Barely spoke a word of English | |
Fell in love from a distance | |
He watched her working from the back fence | |
He learned some words | |
And some clever turns of phrase | |
From his father' s book of poets | |
She wasn' t taken in that instant | |
But grew impressed with his persistence | |
They met each other out by moonlight | |
Made love in the nearby woods | |
Then the folks became suspicious | |
When her cycle broken so young ? | |
They stole away without their goodbyes | |
Got married in a foreign town | |
Made their way as best as they could | |
Found jobs and settled down | |
And then time moved on | |
I was born in a river of blood | |
On sheets from the wedding day | |
The room was dark and the stench was thick | |
My father couldn' t stand the smell of it | |
Mama died in the night cos the nearest | |
Doctor couldn' t stem the blood loss | |
Father cried out on the back porch | |
My sister held me at the neighbor' s house | |
Oh my, there was a storm then | |
It was a flood of a different kind | |
Father' s eyes were often vacant | |
But his hands were rarely quiet | |
Sister learned to take her hits well | |
Both from life and the physical kind | |
But I was never one to lie down | |
Despite who picked the fight | |
So we designed our hells | |
Father turned into a drinker | |
A dark bastard with a wooden heart | |
Sister learned to be a mother | |
Before she' d ever played another part | |
And I became a little terror | |
I lashed out at whatever' s around | |
Took some time before I settled | |
And found a mind that was somewhat sound | |
And as it always does | |
Time rushed on | |
Six years later father died in the very same bedroom | |
Many said it was the grief that did it | |
I have to say it' s cos he hung himself | |
To be honest neither sister or myself | |
Ever much regret his passin' | |
But I admit it was a nice thing | |
To always know that we could feed ourselves |
So we start with my father as a boy | |
Barely spoke a word of English | |
Fell in love from a distance | |
He watched her working from the back fence | |
He learned some words | |
And some clever turns of phrase | |
From his father' s book of poets | |
She wasn' t taken in that instant | |
But grew impressed with his persistence | |
They met each other out by moonlight | |
Made love in the nearby woods | |
Then the folks became suspicious | |
When her cycle broken so young ? | |
They stole away without their goodbyes | |
Got married in a foreign town | |
Made their way as best as they could | |
Found jobs and settled down | |
And then time moved on | |
I was born in a river of blood | |
On sheets from the wedding day | |
The room was dark and the stench was thick | |
My father couldn' t stand the smell of it | |
Mama died in the night cos the nearest | |
Doctor couldn' t stem the blood loss | |
Father cried out on the back porch | |
My sister held me at the neighbor' s house | |
Oh my, there was a storm then | |
It was a flood of a different kind | |
Father' s eyes were often vacant | |
But his hands were rarely quiet | |
Sister learned to take her hits well | |
Both from life and the physical kind | |
But I was never one to lie down | |
Despite who picked the fight | |
So we designed our hells | |
Father turned into a drinker | |
A dark bastard with a wooden heart | |
Sister learned to be a mother | |
Before she' d ever played another part | |
And I became a little terror | |
I lashed out at whatever' s around | |
Took some time before I settled | |
And found a mind that was somewhat sound | |
And as it always does | |
Time rushed on | |
Six years later father died in the very same bedroom | |
Many said it was the grief that did it | |
I have to say it' s cos he hung himself | |
To be honest neither sister or myself | |
Ever much regret his passin' | |
But I admit it was a nice thing | |
To always know that we could feed ourselves |