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Hey there Mr. P.H.D. my pain is a mystery
Can you use your therapy to tell me what is wrong with me?
Well now son, I need to know a little bit more about you so,
Sit right there if you would
And tell me ‘bout your childhood.
I remember the rain
On a sunny day
I remember the way it sounds
And I remember the road
And all the miles we drove
But I don’t remember where we were bound
And death was all around.
Come on, doc, don’t hesitate
I told you true so shoot me staight.
Oh, my God, I’m a real psycho
I just know you’re about to tell me so.
Hold on son, we’ve just begun
Don’t go jumpin’ the proverbial gun
If you want to know what’s wrong
You gotta talk about your mom.
I remember her songs
Moving through her pipe-organ veins
Each time her heart beat pounded
And I remember her voice
Like oak and abalone
Made me cry, each time it sounded
And death was all around
Allright Doc, them’s the facts
I told you true so tell me flat
Oh my God, I’m gonna go to hell
Tell my friends I said farewell
Hold on boy, I still need to know
A little bit more about you so,
Even though it might make you raw,
We got to talk about your pa
I remember feelin’ lost in that old graveyard
But just before I’d cry, he would appear
He taught me that even when he was near I was alone
And how not to fear the tombstone.
It’s true son, you’re pretty ill but take this pill and you’ll feel fine
And call me if you ever feel up or down
And now I’m livin’ life on a flat line
And I hardly ever notice that death, death, death,
Death is still around.