Charlie had a vision,
A circular incision
Into his own mind
Not totally kind
Made a pot of coffee
And then he started coughing
Out his vertical lines
That nobody finds
Pan left 'til you see the sun
Drowning everyone
In a wide shot
Now we see a family
Chopping down a tree
Or maybe not
And the color ran out of the frame . . .
Fade in to a railroad track
And billowing smokestack
At the sunrise
Now we see a robbery
Watch the robbers flee
Into death's eyes
And the color ran out of the frame . . .