The Shootout at the I’m OK, You’re OK Corral

I could tell that it was more than just a simple lover’s spat

When she called me compulsive, and blamed my Mom for that

I yelled “I’m not the only one around here with hangups, gal”

And thus began the Shootout at the I’m OK, You’re OK Corral

 

She called me a Martian, said I couldn’t relate to Venus

Then she made some crack about the size of…the gulf between us

I yelled “radical forgiveness would not be your salvation”

It wasn’t what you’d call non-violent communication

 

 

Ain’t no doubt about it, it was down and dirty now

It was tense, and hair-triggers, at the I’m OK, You’re OK Corral

 

I could tell that she was closing in for the kill

When she started quoting Oprah, and spouting Doctor Phil

I knew that it was time to bring in my own hired guns

So I invoked the spirit of Sigmund Freud, and Carl Jung

 

I suggested loudly that she was anal retentive

She shouted I was emotionally unintelligent

Considering her anger, I said that was pretty funny

She hit me with a copy of “How To Love Women…for Dummies”

 

I felt just like a mean old gunfighter facin’ down a former pal

Friends, the hot lead was flyin’ at the I’m OK You’re OK corral

 

We were dangerously close to the tipping point

When I heard my inner voice chime in: time to make a choice

So I said “Let’s negotiate, before we get too beat up,

If you’ll put the cap on the toothpaste, I’ll quit leaving the seat up”

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