Do you think that your handwriting is a suggestion
of your desires and your repression,
in love with your mother, drifting father afield.
Placing faith in figures and never in fiction,
read your Psychoanalyst Standard Edition,
telling you how you're meant to feel.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, always get in the way.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, say what you want to say.
Well your mum like's them Jung and your dad thinks he's smarter,
he's read nearly all of Sartre,
books like that are meant to make me ill.
When you think one thing but say another,
calling out the wrong name to your lover,
ids and ego stifling your will.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, always get in the way.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, say what you want to say.
Having dreams you can't ignore. Don't wanna be tongue tied any more.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, always get in the way.
Freudian slips, nervous ticks, say what you want to say.
credits
from Mama's Boy,
released May 5, 2014
the drums: Christabel Williams
bass guitar: Christopher Wood
guitar and vocals: Becks Healey
guitar and mumbles: Carl Farrugia