You wanna make Van Goghs
Raise 'em up like sheep
Make 'em out of Eskimos
And women if you please
Make 'em nice and normal
Make 'em nice and neat
You see him with his shotgun there?
Oh what do you know about
Living in Turbulent Indigo? Bloodied in the wheat?
In a scary sky .
Brash fields, crude crows
In a golden frame
Roped off
Tourists talking about the madhouse
Tourists guided by .
Talking about the ear
He'd piss in their fireplace!
The madman hangs in fancy homes
He'd drag them through Turbulent Indigo
They wouldn't let him near! "I'm a burning hearth," he said
But no one comes to warm themselves
Sloughing off a coat
"People see the smoke
And all my little landscapes
All my yellow afternoons
Like dirty cups and spoons
No mercy Sweet Jesus!
Stack up around this vacancy
No mercy from Turbulent Indigo.
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