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.