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Nash the Slash - Vincent's Crows (1982) | Текст песни

Vincent's crows on the horizon
Haunted black scrawls on Flanders blue
The blade bore love as real as breathing
A canvas so directly true
Vincent's crows beyond impressions
Lost in masses empty words
Upon the page the death of feeling
All unseen in the flight of birds

Vincent's crows are swooping 'round my head
Vincent's crows are swooping 'round my head

Vincent's crows find Gauguin silent
Tahiti fondles his disease
Vincent's mirror decays in meaning
He draws a blank down on his knees
Lend an ear and grant asylum
Colour his spirit far from sane
For in winged claws there curls a question
Beyond all hope, beyond all pain

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