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Yesterday I spent an hour.

A full hour in therapy.

My favourite Doctor Landau.

My God, I hate his breath.

He asked me questions, that kind of fool deserves a lie.

I gave him answers, the kind of answers Doctors like.

Yes, I gave him a bunch of lies.

I told him all my nightmares Were dead and gone.

"These days I sleep like a baby and there never ever was a "Them".

He asked me questions, that kind of fool deserves a lie.

I gave him answers, the kind of answers Doctors like.

The Doctor looked at my eyes.

"No trace of insanity.

Maybe the time is right now to have a visit from the family.

I'm thinking of your Mother.

What does my little patient say?".

I should have taken his stethoscope and then forced it down his throat.

My Mother was at stake, so I behaved.

That night I cleaned the entire house, for everything but the memories.

No dust, no tea, ah stupid me.

I even took the axe away.

The sun is up and it's time for bed.

I'm so tired, I can't wait no more.