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A Tale By Quincy

de The Weeknd

That's it
Looking back now, I didn't know what it was supposed to be
And it's like raising kids, man
If you weren't raised
You don't know how to raise, you know?
I just did the best that I could with them because
They know fucking well I love them

But I didn't do the best I could
I didn't know what the fuck I was doing
I didn't

I will never forget watching my mother
Get put in a straightjacket
And taken out of my home
When I was only seven years old
She was diagnosed with Dementia praecox
And put in a mental institution
Leaving my daddy alone with me and my little brother Lloyd

I latеr had an evil stepmother
Who furthеr cemented the idea
That I didn't need a mother
Growing up without one
Had long lasting influence I didn't fully understand
Until much later in life

It bled into my relationships with family
And those I had became romantically involved with
Whenever I got too close to a woman, I would cut her off
Part of that was vindictive and partially based on fear
But it was also totally subconscious

Looking back is a bitch, isn't it?

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