Cabaret of Broken Spoons

Lyrics

FAMILY DRAMA [Cheerful piano] Family drama, family trauma, Nobody takes accountability—period, no comma. We break the cycle every day, By changing the subject—or looking away. We’re falsely acting pleasant to maintain the status quo, But mention something happened and it’s— “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” “You have a problem.” “Clearly you’re the issue.” “I hope you get the help you need.” Here—have another tissue. Therapy is wonderful, We strongly recommend it. For you. Not us. We’d rather die than attend it. Don’t bring up my mood swings, Or possible mental illness, That’s rude, invasive, judgmental— Could we please return to stillness? Anyway, Grandma’s boyfriend Was an abusive fucking prick— But don’t tell Grandma I said that. Jesus Christ, are you sick? Yes, I recognize the pattern, And yes, I did repeat it, But calling it “generational trauma” Feels unnecessarily conceited. Let’s call it family drama, That sounds considerably lighter. “Trauma” needs accountability. “Drama” just needs a writer. Your brother has his issues, But really, don’t we all? And if everybody has a problem, Then nobody’s at fault! [Music stops] That’s not how that works. [Music resumes] DON’T WE ALL?! Family drama! Family trauma! Period, period—still no comma! We’ve tried nothing whatsoever, And we’re shocked it’s not getting better! Anxiety? Taboo! Addiction? Not our jurisdiction! Depression? Change the direction! Accountability? [Silence] “Why does everything need a label?” Because apparently being ourselves is how we fucking got here. If you bring it up, We’ll have a conniption, Then rewrite the story— It’s a family tradition. We’ll diagnose your tone, Your motives and your diction, Anything to avoid A little self-reflection. “I’m worried about your anger.” Can we discuss yours? NO. I’m closing that door. Like when you hid from all the screaming and rage? DON’T PUT OUR PRIVATE BUSINESS ON THE FUCKING STAGE! ...You mean the thing that explains this? That’s not productive. Of course. Family drama! Family trauma! Welcome to the House of Emotional Karma! Where boundaries are disrespect, Silence means respect, And “keeping the peace” means Protecting whoever wrecked it. We don’t sweep things under rugs— That accusation is unfair. We carefully catalogue them, Then pretend the rug’s not there. “How dare you bring up the past?” The past was Tuesday. “Still.” Because nothing says “healthy family” Quite like everyone agreeing: “We’ve got absolutely no dysfunction— NOW STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT IT.” [Cheery piano outro] Family drama, family trauma, Nobody takes accountability—period, no comma. Pass it down, then act surprised When the next generation gets therapized. Break the cycle? Absolutely. Just… quietly. And preferably— without involving me.