| Lyrics |
Sits in his office rappin' with the rats, lookin' for excuses for his fits andspats, makin' things worse with a cocaine brain, trying to judge thedistance between pleasure and pain. Stinks like a madman cries all thetime, confident of all the answers he'll find, don't get confused or callhim paranoid-o, he just doesn't know about his mondo freudo.
Sittin'on the couch he tried to pour out his heart, while the doctoryawned a bit and tried to hold back a fart and then he lit up a cigar andjust started to smoke and just thinkin' to himself that it's just a joke."
Well I got a good job and it pays real well, and when I get home I treat the kidslike hell. Beat my wife within an inch of her life and tried to slit mywrists with a dull butter knife. The family's real worried 'bout mycarousin' and boozin' " and the doctor lit a smoke to try to keep himfrom snoozin', it was getting real lame and doc was gettin' annoyed-oand didn't give a damn about mondo freudo.
Sittin' on the couch etc...
Doctor couldn't take it anymore, cuz he was bored and just sick andtired of listenin' to a mondo freudo. Wife and the kids whose life justhit the skids were sick and tired of gettin' pushed around and livin' ina condo with a mondo freudo.
The secretary knew that names couldn't escape her, walked down tothe corner to buy a newspaper. Back to the office, past all the bums,readin' 'bout the baby junkies in the Chilean slums and "
Wife shootshusband, twice in the head" she knew the name of the man that wasdead, he was a pain in the ass, a fly in the ointment, wife bought a gunand he missed his appointment.
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