Vincent's Ear

24 Nov 2004

They say that a few years before he did himself in
Vincent had a very nasty row with Gauguin
He went home and took a razor to his left ear
Wrapped it up and gave it as a present to his dear

To his surprise she did not like his gift much at all
She called the cops and had him packed off to L’Hospital
The ear was kept as evidence in an alcohol-filled jar
It disappeared in the hole of history’s black star

But what happened to Vincent's ear
Was it buried six feet under, was it sold for an ice-cold beer
Did some junior detective steal it out of spite
Or did it end up drifting through the starry, starry night

They say Vincent was crazy and it might have been the truth
His style was unconventional his manner was uncouth
Failure was his standard and loss his destiny
He was not a darling of the petty bourgeoisie

He loved the sun and sunflowers he loved his cousin
He painted portraits of the entire family Roulin
In the yellow cafes at night he’d daub away the time
But everybody thought him mad, his ear not worth a dime


He lived in an asylum, he wrote letters to Theo
And then one day he shot himself, it’s adios Van Gogh
If Vincent were still alive and kicking today
His ear would be up for auction on eBay