| The psychoanalyst’s conundrum
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| Is a venerable force, yeah
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| It’s like she got a shiny little badge now
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| 'Cause she took a little course
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| And if I got a little problem, uh
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| She gonna write it down in ink
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| 'Cause she got a little book that tell her
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| How people used to think
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| But that presents another problem, uh
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| What if the issue’s with herself, yeah
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| She go to get a drink of water
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| But falls inside the well
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| She like to tell me just what make me frown
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| But she drink when she’s up, and she drink when she’s down
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| She’s on the high horse or she up in the tree, and she lookin' below,
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| all the human beings
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| But you’re an animal to me
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| An accidental laceration
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| Girl you better clean that out
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| 'Cause if you wind up in a sandstorm
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| And all around you is a drought
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| Then your wound is gonna fester
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| And you’ll be throbbing in pain
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| But you’d never cry out for help, no
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| You’d look at your little book again
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| She like to tell me just what make me frown
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| But she drink when she’s up, and she drink when she’s down
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| She’s on the high horse or she up in the tree, and she lookin' below,
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| all the human beings
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| But you’re an animal to me
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| The psychoanalyst’s conundrum, uh
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| Yeah the issue’s with themselves, uh
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| They think about it too much to feel anything
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| Then they’re stuck in the well |