Stars of Vincent
Here comes another night
And I found myself staring at the moonlight;
Asking for the number of stars
Dreaming to reach them no matter how far.
Every other night, the stars are the same
They all remind me of a name;
Someone whom I used to know
Who calls himself Vincent van Gogh.
Vincent loves the stars
And for that he became one;
He seems so close and yet so far
Like the moon and the blazing sun.
He's out of my league, I must say
Someone like Vincent is never for me;
He's like the star shining up there
I'm just nobody staring from here.
I used to wonder if we're looking at the same star
Or if he's staring at the other or at the rest of the stars that there are;
Or maybe those stars remind him of someone else
Or perhaps, just perhaps, we could be like in fairy tales.
It is just another night
But the thought of it remains the same;
Still the stars remind me of him
Still they spell out his pseudonym.
Vincent.
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