What makes the loathsome psychopath,
hycopath of evil,
exploring every cruelty and excess?
Despite the punch with Ipecac or microwave-o-weevil,
the cause has long been
anybody's guess.
Just how can he achieve the satisfaction that
he wants from biting chickens' heads off with
sadistic nonchalance?
What fills him with the savagery to thrill from causing pain?
We now know that the answer is his brain.
Ah-ha!
His brain makes him do it.
His brain makes him do it.
It makes him bivisect his victims,
then extract their suet.
So do not cast aspersions,
he should not endure the stain.
The fault lies not with him, but with his brain.
What gives the firm believer such a fever for her god?
So certain of a presence she has felt?
Transcendence and epiphanies that sound a little odd,
unless you've walked a mile where
she's knelt.
What makes the Muslim face the East and bow and all that stuff?
What makes the born again convinced that once was not enough?
What gives the faithful one the faith her faith will never wane?
That's all.
Her brain makes her do it.
Her brain makes her do it.
The god spot in her cortex gets a neural impulse to it.
Religious feelings,
science heretofore could not explain.
But now we've found the G-spot in her brain.
Do I really feel and think and mean what I hope I mean?
Nope.
It's only serotonin or adrenaline and a dopamine.
Every notion or mood passing thought
attitude that I have or forget or repress or
memorize can be best understood just by scanning
my brain with a series of MRIs. What makes the
newly amorous so clamorous and wild to feel they
fit each other like a glove?
They grope, mope, or elope.
They free their inner feral child.
What
gives them this delusionary love?
They adulate and fawn and dote with sighs,
coos,
and chirps.
Appreciate each other's farts.
Complete each other's burps.
What makes them lose all reason
just to suffer through the strain?
A condition of the post-pubescent brain.
You see?
The brain
makes them do it.
The brain makes them do it.
It gets gonads to go pituitaries to pituit.
And everything that feels romantic really is quite plain.
The part they call the heart is
in the brain.
Oh!
Your brain makes you do it.
Your brain makes you do it.
It makes you doubt,
associate, guess, wonder, and intuit.
And all complex experience is nothing so arcane.
Just signals and receptors in your brain.
And if you think this explanation sounds a bit inane,
don't fret your pretty head.
That's just your brain.
Try not to overthink it.
It's your brain.
Just get it through your thick skull.
It's your brain.