My mother hosts a talk show,
My father drives a Cadillac,
I get good grades in every class,
My brother's the varsity quarterback.
Everyone that sees us
Thinks we're a perfect family,
But if you believe we're perfect too,
Then look closer and tell me what you really see.
No one knows what happens
When there are no prying eyes,
If you saw us then you'd wonder,
Who made up all those lies?
My mother's never home,
And my father drinks too much,
I'm depressed and anorexic,
Drugs are my brother's crutch.
We can't be around each other
For more time than we must,
My brother's always with his friends,
My father's lost our trust.
So if you think we're perfect,
Then you've made a small mistake,
What you call being perfect
Is what I call being fake.
