"Oedipus" genre: Folk Rock
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	Psycho-sexual abuse. It's a lovestory, but not the kind you want to have on your bookshelf. My brother likes this song a lot, which is kinda weird, but it's about his old friend from school -- and anyway, my brother is the one who asked me to write it. Here it is.
	CD: Ganymede   Label: NMA Credits: (c) 2003 D. Byron Patterson
	Story Behind the Song I wrote this song about a guy I knew in college whose idea of the family unit was a bit skewed. His mother had turned him into a surrogate husband -- the apron strings were shoved into his intestines and wrapped around his spine until mother and son were nearly lovers. In his mind they already were. I don't believe he'll ever escape from that upbringing. And there are thousands like him who never do. Shoot, the great thing about my mom is, at the very least, she helped us WHOLEHEARTEDLY get out of the nest. But this poor guy... Lyrics Oedipus Baby Lying still sound asleep Woman softly whispers as she gently weeps He feels her hold him Singing a lullabye He suckles deep into her breasts as the tears fall from his Mother's Eyes Little boy, no more than one or two Comes inside from playing And his face is black and blue She screams, “My baby! What have they done to you?” From that day on the boy is never far away From his mother’s eyes Adolescence brings another change And Mama’s endless watching almost Drives the boy insane And all his friends, now, Suddenly see the light And leave him to his lonely self And the solitude of his mother’s eyes Young man going away to school And mama’s face is always lurking, Hiding ‘hind the cruelty of “No more, son. "You better just come back home.” In a fit of rage, he tries to end it all, But in the ambulance are his mother’s eyes Old man, Oedipus was his name Locks himself inside his house, Just like Citizen Kane And every evening, He walks down his halls And strolls past all the portraits, Hanging on the walls – They’re his mother’s eyes

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