| Prodding in the dark for affection
|
| Night will hide sleepy woes
|
| Hazel hair sleek as an otter’s
|
| Amphibious creature, friend or foe
|
| Gave him a book on Freud’s lectures
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| Only book he read, ‘least that’s what he said
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| ‘Don't deny erotic pleasure'
|
| Page well-thumbed, found the line he needed
|
| Freud never got to beloved Egypt
|
| Fled the Nazis, not his fears
|
| They say the longest river there
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| Is denial.
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| I’m prodding in the dark for affection
|
| Night reveals sleepy woes
|
| Hazel hair sleek as an otter’s
|
| Ambiguous creature, friend or foe
|
| Tried to twist it into hope
|
| But something snapped, somebody broke
|
| Shielded by your guilty cloak
|
| Too little too late, the demon spoke
|
| Freud never got to beloved Egypt
|
| Fled the Nazis, not his fears
|
| They say the longest river there
|
| Is denial, is denial
|
| We’re all swimming in that river
|
| I would oft' come up for air
|
| Lately my lungs have expanded
|
| That, or I’ve developed gills
|
| To swim in this river
|
| I would oft' come up for air
|
| But lately my lungs, they keep expanding
|
| That, or I’ve developed gills. |