I was lonely and depressed Having fled the family home When I met an old acquaintance I had only barely known
And I told her over tea Of my worries and my woes And a morbid fear of eating beans In tightly fitting clothes
And she said psychoanalysis was just the thing for me And she knew a mayfair analyst I really ought to see
So I went round to his rooms And he saw me right away Though he asked a sum of money I could ill afford to pay
But I lay down on the couch By a bowl of flaccid flowers And I talked and talked and talked and talked For hours and hours and hours And he told me tales of oedipus with great authority
And he asked me if my mother Wore stiletto heels and rubber And I realised that this poor soul Was more confused than me
Well the shock was so profound That I fled into the strand Where I saw a hare krishna group And joined in with the band
This was just the life for me Free of worldly goods and care And I chanted and I ranted Round and round trafalgar square
I converted tens of thousands and they joined us then and there
But the bagwan was so jealous That he called me over zealous Then he threw me out When I refused to cut off all my hair
(Dr. Ruth, Dr. Ruth, why not write to Dr. Ruth?)
So I wrote to Dr. Ruth And she helpfully proposed I should join a nudist colony And throw away my clothes
All that sun upon my flesh Would set my libido free And would guarentee much more of it Whatever 'it' may be
But I don't feel that I was quite equipped for such a life
Fair of skin just like my sisters Too much sun would give me blisters So I think I'll turn the whole thing in