In the Flat Field

A gut pull drag on me

Into the chasm gaping we

Mirrors multi-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 life

For a maiden's sake and maiden flight

In the flat field, I do get bored

Replace with Piccadilly whores

In my yearn for some terrible 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