Van Gogh

the shots, they scattered the wild life that was there
around van gogh's end
that road was just waiting to be followed but you never
go there again
he never went there again
we've heard about christ and your crosses but we all hear
unholy hums
we all run around painting portraits and sometimes an
ugly one
and sometimes they look like a van gogh
the sky it is huge and it's frightning and fear digs its
holes in the ground
the ground is just waiting to swallow and to fold her
wings around
and you, i can see you've been by there
i can see you behind your ghost
your eyes look like they've been damaged by going where