Mesmerized by his canvas, I fell into a deep silence.
And felt the pain that stirred in his heart
Oh, how he loved the simple peasants and captured their brilliance
It was in his strokes he found a magical craft
Any price placed on his exquisite creations
Left a deep scare on his soul
To that which is sold is no longer free
To that which is left free on the dreams of time, remains whole
In the days of your life, they called you insane
Oh, what have they taken from you, Vincent?
Your Glory perhaps, perhaps your fame.
You gave them your soul, in wondrous magnificence.
On that starry starry night...