The Alan Parsons Project

Sects Therapy

Written by Eric Woolfson and Alan Parsons

A health warning on some possible pitfalls of pychology.

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 baghwan was so jealous

That he called me over-zealous

Then he threw me out

When I refused to cut off all my hair

So I wrote to Doctor 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 didn'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

And go home to my wife