Decay. And Die Slow.

Vincent

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul...
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.


Now I understand
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps they'll listen now.


Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.


For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do--
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.


Starry, Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.



Now I think I know
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they're not listening still--
Perhaps they never will.

(Vincent - Don McLean)

Kickin' the Yogi

the punk fixed up
an appointment with
the good ol' yogi from Nazareth.

'redeem me you scum, you fukin delivery boy', punk boy said
The Nazarene smiled and said,
'From where?
To where?'.

punkster got angry and said
'you fukin boorshua..
ur making spineless slaves outta ordinary men..
you and your phoney preachings..
.you are the fukin biggest economic hitman...
glorifyin misery and hunger and starvation.
and givin false beliefs to people
that suffering is the path to salvation..
there is no redemptionther eis no salvationthere is no soulthere is no nothing..
you are a fukin CIA agent' .

Punkster got up
and kicked the yogi.
And then went on to write a book
which became a bestseller.
"If you meet Nazarene on the road, Kick him!"

Nazarene smiled.
and said
'ji is us'