The love with which I brought you up
Was held in the book of frozen thoughts
Like a cryogenically stored impasse of repressed emotions
Where's the sexuality in this tensed state of mind?
In which we attribute, the city lights to the life of the bright enlightened plight
Maybe, our plea is just reimbursement waiting to repaid by our future generations
Wondering how it got so rough, and yet so droll
The candid nature of *** is psychology
In this surmise, I rest my repleting father figure
Complexes are how we move onto our next offspring
Where there is recessiveness, there is dormancy