"(Five Years And) My Family" lyrics
My parents are good people, they deserve a healthy son
The way they raised me was a natural pathway to punk
Their support, of course, was privileged, but authoritarian
It's a little complicated, but I wouldn't trade it for nothin'
Pop Pop peaced, I got the Citizen, and it doesn't quite fit my wrist
But I might still grow into it, I shoulda told him he's the realest
And a nigga got no inheritance, Oma told me she dipped into it
To pay the prison of retirement and the abuse those in homes often get
I wouldn't have found my own way if y'all raised a lesser man
Family history explains my choice and how I let the treatment stand
I'm, of course, culpable in how I let life come to pass
And I would rather pick out a switch than say why I sat on my hands
Five years gone, justified away, left me a suicidal fanatic
The next five years spent at war with each and every accrued habit
Looking through family photo albums and thought, "All because of some freakin'"
We weren't always fighting to close the gaps in our independent streaks and
I was especially closed off because of my outside social treatments
Age old omertàs chain us in iron-clad silent agreements
Then I learned some family secrets and that trust gained gave me reason to share with them
That I was seeking peace in death because I was fucking tweaking
That was back in 2017 when my anxiety was peaking
With panic attacks that were so frequent, I'd pass out when they'd start creepin'
Felt I had shit else to lose, told my whole family the truth
I was having hands put on me paired with wild mental abuse
I'm just one nigga this happened to and there's four of us in this group
The statistic is one-in-ten so the math right there for you to do
Obviously, my family was worrying about me
They watched me in my misery and troubling surroundings
But I'm grown, coulda phoned home and got over all my doubting
But I was in my head and couldn't hear those thoughts over top of the other shouting
I was keeping all my shit straight, bills paid whether or not I ate
With my style, it was no way for them to know I wasn't safe
I learned that same night
My grandma, Oma, lived that same life
That was half the surprise
My Mom was there when she became Pop Pop's wife
After that, it was a little funny
She said, "You could've saved all of your money
All that you spent on therapy
You'd still have if you just came to me"
The way they raised me was a natural pathway to punk
Their support, of course, was privileged, but authoritarian
It's a little complicated, but I wouldn't trade it for nothin'
Pop Pop peaced, I got the Citizen, and it doesn't quite fit my wrist
But I might still grow into it, I shoulda told him he's the realest
And a nigga got no inheritance, Oma told me she dipped into it
To pay the prison of retirement and the abuse those in homes often get
I wouldn't have found my own way if y'all raised a lesser man
Family history explains my choice and how I let the treatment stand
I'm, of course, culpable in how I let life come to pass
And I would rather pick out a switch than say why I sat on my hands
Five years gone, justified away, left me a suicidal fanatic
The next five years spent at war with each and every accrued habit
Looking through family photo albums and thought, "All because of some freakin'"
We weren't always fighting to close the gaps in our independent streaks and
I was especially closed off because of my outside social treatments
Age old omertàs chain us in iron-clad silent agreements
Then I learned some family secrets and that trust gained gave me reason to share with them
That I was seeking peace in death because I was fucking tweaking
That was back in 2017 when my anxiety was peaking
With panic attacks that were so frequent, I'd pass out when they'd start creepin'
Felt I had shit else to lose, told my whole family the truth
I was having hands put on me paired with wild mental abuse
I'm just one nigga this happened to and there's four of us in this group
The statistic is one-in-ten so the math right there for you to do
Obviously, my family was worrying about me
They watched me in my misery and troubling surroundings
But I'm grown, coulda phoned home and got over all my doubting
But I was in my head and couldn't hear those thoughts over top of the other shouting
I was keeping all my shit straight, bills paid whether or not I ate
With my style, it was no way for them to know I wasn't safe
I learned that same night
My grandma, Oma, lived that same life
That was half the surprise
My Mom was there when she became Pop Pop's wife
After that, it was a little funny
She said, "You could've saved all of your money
All that you spent on therapy
You'd still have if you just came to me"
Writer(s): Gianmarco Guerra
