Now shrinks are known to all TVs,
As folks who understand,
They'll lay you down upon a couch,
And they will hold your hand.

They'll say, "Now tell me of your dreams,
When you are fast asleep".
They'll even try hypnosis,
A trance so very deep.

They'll drag your secrets out of you,
They'll come right out in droves,
Of how  when you were little,
You wore your sisters clothes.

Remember when her panties,
Were lying on the bed,
And suddenly your legs were weak,
And you were filled with dread.

And you picked them up and put them on,
Your little brow on fire,
Your little heart was pounding now,
You had a strange desire.

And now the shrink will wake you up,
And take his little pad,
And write down all these memories,
Of when you were a lad.

And then he will admonish you,
And say,"You know it's wrong.
You must forget this TV stuff,
You know you must be strong."

He'll take your cash and send you home,
And think he's done his job
And you go home and sit and think,
And feel you want to sob.

But when you sit and think a bit,
About what you went through,
You gradually realise,
What he has done for you.

For all these lovely memories,
That he brought back to you,
Were lying dormant all these years,
Just waiting to break through.

You now remember clearly,
Those early TV days,
Of wearing mummy's panties,
And putting on her stays.

Of wearing sister's dresses,
And putting on her slips,
And stealing all her lipstick,
To put upon your lips.

And most of all, remember,
That lovely summer's day,
When all the family members,
They all had gone away.

And you were in the house alone,
You had the whole day long,
And you thought of all the clothing,
And you heard the siren song.

And you headed for the bedroom,
Where mum and daddy slept,
And you felt so happy,
That you almost wept.

And you looked in mummy's wardrobe,
And in the drawers too,
To find the lovely clothing
That would look good on you.

That was the day that you dressed up,
From head to tippy toe,
That was the day you knew for sure,
Just how your life would go.

So, sitting now, you think of this,
And what the shrink has said,
You realise he doesn't know,
Just what is in your head.

And getting up, you cross the room,
To pour yourself a drink,
You raise your glass and hold it high,
And say," Here's to the shrink."

For all these lovely memories,
That I had lost before,
And, touching up your lipstick,
You walk right out the door.

Janey Lang
30th. Aug. 1996.