The Passionate Freudian To His Love

Only name the day, and we'll fly away 
In the face of old traditions, 
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot, 
Where we'll park our inhibitions. 
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies 
As it psychoanalyzes, 
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean 
Life will hold no more surprises. 
When you've told your love what you're thinking of 
Things will be much more informal; 
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand, 
Drifting gently back to normal. 

While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams, 
And I'll win your admiration, 
For it's only fair to admit I'm there 
With a mean interpretation. 
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low 
Of the scenes our dreams have painted, 
And when you're advised what they symbolized 
We'll begin to feel acquainted. 
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat 
Where subconscious waves dash wildly; 
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And "good-night!" will put it mildly. 

Our desires shall be from repressions free— 
As it's only right to treat them. 
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns, 
And ad libido repeat them. 
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline 
Amid bowers of neuroses, 
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west 
We will sit and match psychoses. 
So come dwell a while on that distant isle 
In the brilliant tropic weather; 
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed, 
We'll always be Jung together.

by Dorothy Parker