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Disorder 2: The Veil

The lyrics for the song Disorder 2: The Veil, written by Brian H. Bullard, convey the feelings and challenges that can accompany individuals living with this Autism Spectrum Disorder. Throughout the lyrics, tensions between authenticity and social adaptation are explored, with verses like "Pray to abrade / Through rotoscoped days" alluding to the internal struggle of maintaining a genuine identity amidst society's expectations and demands.

The recurring imagery of the "veil" or "skin" mentioned in the song symbolizes the need to conceal the unique characteristics of a person with autism to fit into a social environment that often doesn't fully understand their experiences. Throughout the song, the tone seems to oscillate between resignation and resistance to this imposed conformity, hinting at the tension between the desire for authenticity and the impact of external expectations.

Ultimately, the song conveys the emotional complexity and internal experiences of individuals with autism, emphasizing the importance of understanding and supporting those with these unique perspectives.


Lower the veil
Paint over the tulle
With plagiarized lacquers
Of their affectations

Pray to abrade
Through rotoscoped days
With some lingering semblance...
Nervios exaltados
It soon becomes clear
That this confounding minstrel

Must come to an end
Come to end
When can it end?
Please let this end
Just end

Pulling back the veil
Glance into the mirror
Hair, color and skin
Such a senseless portrayal
What can there be?
Everything else unseen

Please let this end
This sycophantic need
A performance on a razor’s edge
While the real slips away
While the real slips away
We were left in a room
No time for rehearsal
Put on this skin and
Dance the dance until
One day the skin becomes your own
Becomes your own

Days go by
The tighter it grows
But not how you thought
Suddenly so hard to breathe
It’s not how I thought it'd be

Won’t somebody please
Get this thing off of me

In a moment of desperation
I tried to peel away the mask

Bits of papier-mâché
and skin
Strands of yarn
and tufts of hair

I tried to scrape away
Saw dust and gangrene
But the skin beneath

Had gone away
And everything unseen
Had already decayed

And now I have nothing

Nothing except
A mask