My Psychoanalyst Is an Idiot Lyrics & Tabs by Georg Kreisler
My Psychoanalyst Is an Idiot
guitar chords lyrics
Jarvis, scratch my back again
And pour another Rye!
If things continue on like this
I'm surely going to die
Business is falling off, you know
And prices getting horrider
I hardly have sufficient funds
To pay for a short stay in Florida
And after all, a bank account
Can only pay your way
But nonetheless, with all my woes
I'd still be toujours gay
And forget about my troubles
That I have ad infinitum
Oh, I could stand it all
And forget about my troubles
That I have ad infinitum
Oh, I could stand it all
If it were not for one small item:
My psychoanalyst is an idiot
The fellow has no feelings for my woes
He asks about my childhood days
And certain of my childhood ways
But why I'm so distressed, he never knows
My psychoanalyst is an idiot
Who never fails to get me all upset
He makes me count from one to ten
And than from ten to one again
Then feels my nose, to see if it is wet
There's one thing that I must admit
Regarding this affair:
Analysis has taught me things
I never knew were there
I struggle now with concepts
That some genius invented
Neurosis and psychosis
Have me morbid and demented
I'm serious, delirious
I'm almost schizophrenic
I'm notional, emotional
And highly neurasthenic
My libido gets torpedoed
Every hour and at length
More perversions than the Persians'
Keep on eating at my strength
I enjoy a paranoia
That is simply homicidal
Self-expression and aggression
Just refuse to leave me idle
I sit back at my haunches
While he tears at my subconscious
And he combs my super-ego
While I watch another fee go
He slams my ideology
With never an apology
And psychoanalytically
He handles me quite critically
He dresses me, undresses me
And measures my reactions
He badgers me unnaturally
And tears my soul to fractions
He feels my head, he slaps my face
He hits me on the knee
He gives me tests, he draws my blood
Than wants another fee
He pulls my ear, he tears my hair
He throws me on the bed
He pokes me ribs, he tabs my chest
And stands me on my head
And when he's through investigating
Depredating, irrigating
Desecrating, contemplating
Irritating, estimating
Lacerating, iterating
Mediating, meditating
Aggravating, ennervating
Overrating, underrating
And when he's got me fluidized
And alkalized and brutalized
And victimized and analyzed
And oversized and undersized
And ionized and mechanized
And totally demoralized
And when he's almost murdered me
In manner quite informal
He rubs his forehead thoughtfully
And says: „I think your normal!“
