From the album ‘Folktronic‘ (2001).
Well, twilight’s falling peacefully across the railway line
The lamps come on in Pervert Park and the moon begins to shine
There’s a distant sound of barking dogs up at Pubic Peak
The beds all creak at Deviant Falls, and there’s molls on Murder Street
I’m your station master, welcome all and sundry
To Psychopathia, Sexualis, population six hundred
Typical in every way except one, and that’s apparent
The walls in all the buildings here are totally transparent
Puffing round the railway track here comes the evening train
Bringing Dr Kinsey back to talk with us again
We must be doing something right ’cause he comes time after time
Excuse me just one minute, there’s a critter on the line
Good evening, Dr Kinsey, why, thank you, not too bad
I guess you’re staying over at the Hotel Marquis de Sade?
Look, there’s Zack the owner, I can see him through the wall
Tying Louise to the writing desk and making her suck his balls
Why, I see you’ve got your notebook out, you know it takes all sorts
I sometimes think it’s just as well we can’t see people’s thoughts
Even if their actions often speak out loud and clear
At least in Psychopathia, I think that’s why you’re here
We may be small but we like to think we’re all blessed
Welcome to Psychopathia, SX.
There’s beautiful waterfalls, there’s lovely valleys
In Psychopathia, Sexualis
I’ll help you with your luggage, sir, the station’s closing now
I’ll take this one, that’s all right, I can lift it – holy cow!
Doctor, what you got in there, cine cameras? Well, I never
Look, here’s Rob the farmhand, "Evening, Rob, lovely weather!"
Maybe you should follow him and wait outside the barn
He’ll penetrate the dairy cows, it doesn’t do no harm
Some folks even think it makes the milk drink even better
But others kind of wish he’d think to wear a French letter
A typical American town, the same as all the rest
This is Psychopathia, SX.
Evening, Reverend, how’s your sister
Your lovely sister, your wife?
Well, here comes Pete the mailman, he interferes with children
Evening Pete, you doing all right? Some say he’s even killed ’em
But if he did he’s got the bodies well hid, threw Bill right off the track
That’s just as well, ’cause Sherrif Bill’s a necrophiliac
What you writing, doctor, looks like a perscription
Them words is Latin, ain’t they, some technical description?
Here’s your hotel, I’ll leave you now, got to lock the station
Then mosey home for another night of lonely masturbation
In hornery America, see, there ain’t much else to do
I guess that’s why we’re valuable to scientists like you
A typical American town with transparent walls
Psychopathia, Sexualis, goodnight y’all