One of the great tragedies of sperm donership is the child who can never meet their biological parent. This is a hole that can never be filled. As good as an odd family background is for art, I’m not sure it ever benifits the emotional stability of the children involved.
If you were raised by two loving parents you can never really understand the unsettling feeling of not knowing one of them. Identity is bestowed on the child of a complete family and it is fought for hard, by the children of broken homes. This is the theme of “The Children of the Milkman,” both song and album. Abraham Cloud, with tongue firmly in cheek, imagines a town gathering where it is revealed to all the townsfolk that they were spawned from the same anonymous “Milkman.” What happens when long held comforting beliefs and pulled out from under you ? What happens your family history seems comical and random ? These and other questions are answered on the full album. THE CHILDREN OF THE MILKMAN
Yeah, you gotta’ know who you are, you never quite resembled Ma and Pa, you never really learned to play guitar. All right, It’s time to face all the facts, you’ve always been attracted to the map, you like to see some order on the rack. WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE MILKMAN IN NUMBERS FAR TOO LARGE TO EVER COUNT THEM WE’LL BE LEAVING SOMETHING USEFUL BY YOUR DOOR I found a picture of Daddy, he’s dead now but I bet he died real happy, what would Daddy want you to do? strange desire to wake up in the morning and drive. why else would you look so good? why else would you look so good? why else would you look so good in white? WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE MILKMAN CONCEIVED BETWEEN THE FAUCET AND THE FOUNTAIN WE’RE THE ONES YOU LEFT BEHIND