In the Flat Field
A gut pull drag on me Into the chasm gaping we Mirrors multy reflecting this Between spunk stained sheet And odorous whim Camera eye-flick-shudder within Assist me to walk away in sin Where is the string that Theseus laid Find me out this labyrinth place. I do get bored, I get bored In the flat field. I get bored, I do get bored In the flat field Yin and yang lumber punch Go taste a tart, then eat my lunch And force my slender thin and lean In this solemn place of fill wetting dreams Of black matted lace of pregnant cows As life maps out onto my brow The card is lowered in index turn Into my filing cabinet hemispheres spurn. I do get bored, I get bored In the flat field. I get bored, I do get bored In the flat field Let me catch the slit of light For a maidens sake On a maiden flight In the flat field I do get bored Replace with Piccadilly whores In my yearn for some cerebral fix Transfer me to that solid plain Hammer me into blazen pain Moulding shapes no shame to waste Moulding shapes no shame to waste And drag me there with deafening haste.