Van Gogh

I had a dream that I was Van Gogh
Living like a vandal
In my tiny castle
I painted portraits of a morning
Coffee with my Lord
He’s still missing his girl Mary
Oh, we’re talking dirty now
I like it when we move like that
Oh, we’re shaping little lies
On the tips of our tongues
Where you at?
Where you at?
She fancied herself a Rimbaud
Coming out that swamp slow
Her head up in the cosmos
She’s got them absinthe eyes I told you
She’s trying to break that mold, fool
I need a little strange fruit
Oh, we’re talking dirty now
I like it when we move like that
Oh, we’re shaping little lies
On the tips of our tongues
Where you at?
Where you at?
Ooh, where you at?
Ooh, where you at?
Ooh, where you at?
Ooh, where you at?
I drink the blues with my bourbon
Jimmy Reed’s a sermon
«Little Rain» a-thundering
I stood up and started singing
I got all this feeling
I’m swinging from the ceiling