Well Doctor Sigmund Freud
Knew a dirty thing when he saw it
Discovered the soul of man
Went looking for a name to call it
So he went down to de bottom of the well
And he brought up the human crud
Murkier than water, thicker than sludge
Beyond belief and impossible to judge
Mud, covered in mud
Other folks’ misfortunes
The baby born with sixteen arms
They call him the human candelabra
And he’s willing to show his scars
May Geraldo be my witness
He fills me with disgust
He was in the wrong place at the wrong time
Infected by the dentist’s blood
Mud, covered in mud
Mud all over my body
In every small town square
In the treads of the President’s shoes
Tracked across the halls of justice
And covered in the headline news
Ooze, crud, grime and sludge, mud pie, mud hut
mud flap, mud hen, muddy water bluesman
ring around the tub or left standing in a washstand
caked behind your ears in a wishbone offense
muckrakin’, muslinging’ libel and slander
like burnin’ black coffee or a slinking salamander
like a tractor stuck in a Mississippi flood
like a heat-seeking missile comin’ up against a scud
well the rain come down from heaven
like every schoolchild knows
but the mud he be always sneakin’ up
from underneath Satan’s toes
like he climbed up Orson Welles
like it started with his shoes
and encouraged his love for pastries
for flattery and booze
like it sought out the soiled tuxedo
and settled in the cumberbund
and treated him to the girls of Rio
where his appetite could come undone
Mud, covered in mud
Mud all over his body
