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.