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.