Everywhere I look
Oh I see the magic
And I somehow
Try to capture it
It's been the only way
To turn from lonely
Even though
I'm losing grip
Oh I just
can't
I just can't stay
It's really hard to sleep
With these paintings everywhere
It's sad to see this beauty
When I'm dieing of despair
I can't sleep
And I can't go on
Been so lonely here today
Been so lonely -
so lonely
for so long
Oh I
I just can't stay
Oh really
I can't stay
Day in day out something drives me and I
stop to paint
all these miracles of color
Don't want to listen to all these
voices in my head
telling me that this ain't life
that I should choose another...
Arles, a town in the South of France
When the sun bursts from the clouds, bursts from behind and beyond doubt -
if you're lucky
Vincent
All you'll remember seeing are the rooftops
A town of rooftops
Not a town painted in pain
It ain't funny.
What a difference,
a day don't make.
It's kind of frightening?
How you let yourself,
get this way?
You had time.
That was back when you had it made.
But you sold out time
Like you had so much time,
left to save.
Gonna take an earthquake
To hit you
Right between the eyes
Gonna take an earthquake
Just to get you,
to read between the lines
Man it ain't funny……
Sad mad Vincent
you can hear the children laughing
they've made you part of their children's game
You stumble through the dusty street
wondering if even the whores
will right away forget your name
It's getting harder to believe
any more
that anything is true
You never set out to
hurt no one
you could never be that cruel
There's voices in your head
today
the voices you can't drink away
They're taunting you
like the children's game
Telling you "Don't put that gun away."
If only they would let you sleep
If only Paul had stayed
if only there could be some rest
not just the kind you'll find in death
Sad mad Vincent
the gypsies dance in Avignon
They mutilate their children
So they'll beg better - bring a lot of money home
How could you have ever known?
You'd feel this sad until you finally had to go?
Sad mad Vincent
I also stared all night at a gun
held it in my hand like a lover
but i threw it down in shame and prayed that i'd see tomorrow come
Sad mad Vincent
I also wandered midnight streets alone
But i prayed that there'd be someone somewhere
who would take me in before i choose to let it all go
Hey Vincent, remember the gypsies
in Aix en Province?
Do you remember the punk from Chicago
he was back from Marseilles after sleeping in the park by the train station with
his guitar chained to his arm?
The drunks gave him wide berth because he was "sick and dirty
more dead than alive?"(Lou Reed)
Or did i see you?
Mad sad Vincent in all the hallow eyes of all the
rag-tags and hopeful hopeless ones who hadn't much of anything to carry with them and eyed my guitar with careful strategy and in fact that morning on the beach in Brindisi, I awoke with a start, inhaling the foul stink of decayed fish and then the fetid breath, wine - stale garlic coming from the mouth of that skinny Italian hood who was trying to cut the guitar case away from my hand and who could have had it - the hand, the guitar, but i sneered and mouthed "Musica - man you're taking my life - Lavida - life!!! and he left with reluctance while i dug up the bottle of wine I'd buried the night before when the kids from the boat left me after warning that the beach was not safe and was i fucking insane to think i could sleep there without getting robbed - sliced up like a loaf of warm bread but i didn't pay them any heed and woke up with the hood's knees pressing into my gasping chest and
Sad mad Vincent -
i was heading to see where you'd painted and loved and drank and smoked and died in the town of roof-tops - Arles and then i'd lay back in that beat hotel room with windows open - calling out at all the whores in Avignon
but me too
i
as well
as you must have known as we must have passed each other by, a million times on that troubled trip through France and the world and always
i can't wipe away the slander from my sore and tired red eyes
could never, Vincent, ease enough pure joy into my heart to stop feeling so fucking sad -
you'd of had to know that you couldn't stay so sad so all alone for ever that there would be other's and that's always
how you'd pass me by
two forever unknowns - hipsters bent on deciding that what's worth it rarely is
so then must be
ain't gonna
or will never
we pass each other by
infinitely sad we could barely hold back tears when all around us there is always laughter and it is often emanating from the words and expressions we have lauded - have thrown as sacrifice or payment of passage
it's laughter we have brought to all those others, and eternal goofs-
we clown and sometimes in no particular hurry,
we die.
Passing through Paris and hating being hated to the point it all was funny enough to
dash madly through the rain and the crowds and jump over the turn-styles to make the famous elevated - high speed trains filled with workers and stuffy going nowhere Parisians who have loafs of bread under their arms
and Vincent I also passed you by on the Island in Greece where I know you hardly had time to rest before they were throwing me out of hotel after hotel for sexual fiasco's and broken beds after the slow boat left with my heart broken as i sat with the itinerant dog - another Iggy.
We watched that boat it took a hundred years to drift off with her still leaning on the back rail, our eyes locked and she had given me what money she had left and was on her way back to London and her blue eyes were gifts of magic she lent to me
before i was sure that like you Vincent - sad and mad, i was sure that i was going to love her for ever and the whole village was jealous that in only one day i had taken away from their Latin macho sensitivities, the most beautiful of all tourists to come to the Island that year and half that village hated me more than hatred while the other half laughed and applauded as i fell out of their hotels and finally had to sleep in the unfinished construction project i had been working on with George the pirate -
Vincent - you have gone and done all these historical moments before i had even been born but each step of the way
i saw you
and you sadly shook your head when
you knew all too well that i would one day
find it all too much and you could only pass me by
And…
Vincent, my sad, mad Vincent
you talked about that special radiant sunshine and
what it could do to color and how the wind moved so your lines also
moved , I wonder how often you talked of living when each day you were dying in the coldest atmosphere – an atmosphere of indifference.
Your brother Leo,
sometimes it was all one big party and
he always helped but he couldn't believe – he
didn't believe and that was dieing too Vincent. Yeah that was dieing too.
You never sold a painting.
You gave them away for your heart breaks were also breaking from the kindness of the street.
I passed you by, huddled in a doorway in Florence, you, called to me
You passed me a bottle and I drank like I had done in all the worlds' doorways and alleys and early morning mist.
When Tinkers, bleeding and foul in that alley behind the bar in Sligo Bay, Ireland, when I was sixteen and they had me go by that cheap cider and we smoked and drank and I thought that I was finally living but you Vincent, you could already see that I was dieing all the time and had started a
fantastic slide to so many depths of alone and outcast, and knew that I would have to be
bold and would have to be strong if I were to continue dieing each day and
cared to feel - to see, all and everything that was out there in one mad glance and wanted more – always more, like the Tinkers in the alley wanted more Hard Cider
and later Vincent you must have
smiled to see me worried when the Tinker on the horse-cart, whipped his animal and guide hard
upon its sweating flanks and the horse just took the cart around and around in front of that fancy restaurant and
unsure what exactly the man was screaming about and making such a fuss, the horse continued moving in circles.
I was also moving in circles Vincent, unsure and still looking steady and straight ahead so that sometimes I fooled everyone into believing I was their leader. But I guess you knew – you knew all along.
Sad, mad Vincent Van Gogh
You had to know that we could only just
Only just almost make it – look as if we belonged, look as if we were strong, looked as if we were happening.
it turns out
fallin apart took me to pieces
and i wandered today
afraid this time
for the sun to go away
feeling like
there just won't be a reason
strong
enough
except maybe just a hug
Sad, mad Vincent all through my journey I had hoped that I'd emulate surpass are just find heroes. You falling apart watching me fall apart like I had been this forgotten fighter in the ring of chance pugilistic, chin tucked into my only reserve, throwing aside caution to live and you who had paid also so dearly to live in a cold atmosphere where we have sat and gazed blank eyed into the distance where memories have been stored forever for the day when you could just not make me understand that I had better stay down, or I'd eventually get…..
No one believed.
That it could turn out this way.
So beaten and dragged.
In so too much pain.
Each breath's a struggle.
Like a to be or not to be
day.
Could i have missed it?
That I may not last?
Can't plan the future -
when there's so much
that's been lost still, in the past.
Weak, dragged and I'm
asking why it still
matters that much?
To keep on swinging,
long after, there ain't
no more punch?
'Cause from the corner,
softer,
each time.
Like Sirens singing.
Man it'll drive me
outta my mind.
They're saying - stay down boy
stay down boy,
stay down.
Aw no one's that tough.
So for your own good
stay down
But you know
that you'll never get up
Still they're steady saying
stay down boy, stay down boy.
stay down.
Kilde: Unknown
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