A gut pull drag on me

Into the casm gaping we

Mirrors multy reflecting this

Between spunk stained sheet

And odourous whim

Calme 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