|
A gut pull drag on me
|
Into the chasm gaping we
|
Mirrors multy reflecting this
|
Between spunk stained sheet
|
And odourous whim
|
Calmer 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 maiden's sake
|
On a maiden flight
|
In the flat field I do get bored
|
Replace with Picadilly whores
|
In my yearn for some cerebral fix
|
Transfer me to that solid plain
|
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
|
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
|
And drag me there with deafening haste
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
In the Flat Field
|
| Bauhaus |
