Cut My Hair With a Kitchen Knife, He
Was a Blindfolded Visionary. Everything
And Nothing Was Going On in His Precious
Head, Overfed On ;
Chemicals and Conversation
A Speeding Train Without a Station
Crashed At My Event-horizon
Feeling For the Switch to Turn His Eyes On.
And in the News, They Have to Say He Is A
Blinfolded Visionary. I Scrape the Clouds
Of Rouge From His Face and He's White As
Noise.