flesh is weak

temptation strong

his libido

don't know right from wrong


he's a wicked man

wicked man

can't you understan'

it's very Freudian


gathers rosebuds

while he may

his superego

don't get in the way


ain't got no scruples

so watch out kid

this mean monster

got a big bad id


don't give a damn

about morality

guess he's an oral



he don't go in

for sublimation

prefers some free



he's just a walking

phallic symbol

wants to stick his finger

in every thimble


his genital-fixation

is driving him mad

got sex on the brain

& he got it bad


probe his mind

he just goes ouch

you won't find him lying

on the Doctor's couch


he took to heart

what Sigmund said

thinks the problem's

all in your head


old Oedipus

was too complex

this guy's content

with some simple sex


once he had a trauma

at his mama's breast

comes as some surprise

that he likes women best


life's here today

tomorrow gone

nothing but a death wish

can make him go on


   he's a wicked man

   wicked wicked man

   can't you understan'

   it's very Freudian


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Doctor, Doctor



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