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’s 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 filled 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 filling cabinet hemisphere 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 maiden’s sake
And 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

NOTE: More recently, when Peter sings this song live, he changes the lyrics in a few places:

Assist me to walk away from sin
Where’s the string that Theseus laid? …

and:

Replace those Piccadilly whores
In my yearn for some spiritual fix
Transfer me to that safer plain
Save me from a blazing pain
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
And drag me there with deafening haste

Field
Field
Field
Field

The most complete source of information on the career of musician Peter Murphy.