Answer Me This

Lyrics

I don’t know who you are, that’s the truth from the start,
Just a shadow with my blood, never present with your heart.
You left when I was seven, no goodbye, no explain,
Just a hole in the house and a child full of blame.
I remember little flashes, not enough to make you real,
A car ride on your lap, let me steer, made me feel.
Like for one small second maybe I was seen,
Then it’s back to silence, back to what’s between.
You put a game on the computer, that memory still stays,
Funny how a child holds crumbs for decades in his brain.
And moms would use your name like a weapon in the room,
“Wait till your father gets home,” like your footsteps meant doom.
Turn your ass into a carnival, that’s the line that she’d say,
So was I scared of you or waiting for you anyway?
That’s the mess I’ve been living with, split down the seam,
Half a threat in the hallway, half a man in a dream.


So tell me, did you leave me, or did life pull you under?
Did you think about my name when the nights got thunder?
Did you ever pass my street just to see how I’d be?
Or was “out of sight, out of mind” the same as losing me?
I got questions, no answers, just years in my chest,
Trying to build a whole man from the holes that you left.
I don’t know if I hate you, or just hate what it did,
But I’m writing to the ghost that kept living in the kid.


Last real thing I remember, neighbour stormed in with a gun,
House full of chaos, then you beat him down and won.
I was crying on the couch, and I looked at you that night,
And for one strange moment, you felt safe in my sight.
That’s the part that fucks me up, that’s the part I can’t place,
How can comfort and absence have the very same face?
How can fear and protection come from one set of hands?
How do I sort what was real from what a broken child planned?
Years later my sister said she wanted to find you,
I said, “No, he’s not my father, fathers do what fathers do.”
And I meant it when I said it, yeah the anger was true,
But behind that wall was a boy still asking about you.
Why’d you leave? Why no letter? Why no call to where I stayed?
Why’d you go to that old house when by then I’d been displaced?
Why not foster care, why not one attempt to see me?
Was I really that forgettable, or was it not that easy?


So tell me, did you leave me, or did life pull you under?
Did you think about my name when the nights got thunder?
Did you ever pass my street just to see how I’d be?
Or was “out of sight, out of mind” the same as losing me?
I got questions, no answers, just years in my chest,
Trying to build a whole man from the holes that you left.
I don’t know if I hate you, or just hate what it did,
But I’m writing to the ghost that kept living in the kid.


Police called me one day, said your car alarm was loud,
Asked if I knew your number, I shut that whole thing down.
Said I don’t know him, don’t want to, let that answer hit fast,
Didn't think about, and let my anger answer them, I guess.
Do I look like you? Do I move like you?
Did I get your temper too when the whole room turns blue?
Am I doing better now than you ever did?
Would you look at me with pride, or like good riddance to your kid?
Did you know what was happening in that house back then?
Did you know it was poison and still leave me in it?
Did you try to find me later? Did they keep me from your side?
Did you not care at all, or just bury it alive?
And what about my brother, what about my sisters too?
What kind of wreckage followed after everything with you?
I got half of my blood from a man I can’t place,
That’s a strange kind of war, trying to outrun your face.


And maybe this ain’t anger, maybe this is grief in steel,
Maybe pride’s just how I covered what I never got to feel.
Maybe I say I don’t need you ’cause I learned to live alone,
But some questions hit so deep they still echo in the bone.
I built myself with empty hands, no help, no guide, no map,
So if I ever found the truth, it won’t erase all that.
You don’t get credit for my strength ’cause you were never there,
But I still want the answers, and I hate that I still care.


So tell me, were you guilty, were you broken, were you weak?
Did you hear my name in silence and still choose not to speak?
Did you ever love me somewhere underneath it all?
Or was I just another thing you dropped and let fall?
And the worst part, writing this, I still feel it in my lungs,
Chest tight, throat swollen up, like I’m still your little son.
After all the years and anger, all the walls I built around,
I’m still that same hurt kid scared you’ll let me down.


I talk like I’m done, like I sealed it in a grave
Then my throat swells up and reminds me what I crave
Not a father, not a hug, not some fake repaired bond
Just the truth I should’ve had before you disappeared and gone.
If you hear this…
Now you know what your silence left behind