When I'd ask why the painting was deadly
Nobody could pick up my sign
'Cept for the cook, she was always friendly
But she'd only ask, "What's on your mind?"
She'd say that especially when it was raining
I'd say "Oh, I don't know"
But then she'd press and I'd say, "You see that painting?
Do you think it's been done by Van Gogh?"
The cook she said call her Maria
She'd always point for the same boy to come forth
Saying, "He trades cattle, it's his own idea
And he also makes trips to the north.
Have you ever seen his naked calf bleed?"
I'd say, "Oh no, why does it show?"
And she'd whisper in my ear that he's a half breed
And I'd say, "Fine, but can he paint like Van Gogh?"
I can't remember his name he never gave it
But I always figured he could go home
Til when he'd gave me his card and said, "Save it"
I could see by his eyes he was alone
But it was sad how his four leaf clover
Drawn on his calling card showed
That it was given back to him a-many times over
And it most definitely was not done by Van Gogh.
It was either she or the maid just to please me
Though I sensed she could not understand
And she made a thing out of it by saying, "Go easy
He's a straight, but he's a very crooked-straight man."
And I'd say, "Does the girl in the calendar doubt it?
And by the way is it Marilyn Monroe?"
But she'd just speak softly and say, "Why you wanna know about it?"
And I'd say, "I was just wondering if she ever sat for Van Gogh?"
It was either her or the straight man who introduced me
To Jeanette, Camilla's friend
Who later on falsely accused me of stealing her locket and pen
When I said "I don't have the locket"
She said "You steal pictures of everybody's mother I know"
And I said "There's no locket
No picture of any mother I would pocket
Unless it's been done by Van Gogh."
Camilla's house stood on the outskirts,
How strange to see the chandeliers destroyed
While beneath the velvet carpet
of fox hunts and love far before...