I went to see my therapist
He asked “What riles you? Write me a list.”
I filled a scrapbook.

He looked surprised, but he said “Okay,
How can we fix this? There must be a way.”
I said – and my voice shook –

“I’ll take all my rage and fury and put it in song
Tell everybody who knows me where they went wrong
I won’t be surprised if they hate me, and say go to hell
I blame their parents, it’s their fault as well!”

He said “That seems quite aggressive to me”
So I drop-kicked him, and I didn’t pay his fee
‘Cause that’s crap service

I’ll break down his bull and pretences, put them in song
‘Cause therapists never make sense it’s where they’re all wrong
I won’t be surprised if they sue me and I hit the skids
I blame their parents, they raised smartass kids!

I went into a recording studio and
I sang my songs with a crappy band
I got there somehow

And then I got my album released
I vent my spleen, I’m so frickin’ pleased
I’m number one now, oh
I’m number one now

Now everyone I’ve ever known’s been dissed in my songs
All my neuroses are out there where they belong
I’m not surprised you don’t like me, think I’m a shrew
I blame your parents, they conceived you!

And now that my album’s gone plat’num, I just don’t care
I’ve got a legion of nutjob fangirls out there
I’m not surprised that they love me, it’s not hard to see
They blame their parents, they’re just like me!