♩♪

Wise men once said, "Wild winds are death to the candle," A rose by any other name is a scandal, Cautions issued, he stood, Shooting the messengers, They tried to warn him about her,

"Ah, you see, it was a long time ago, dear," Vincent had begun with a tender smile, holding you in his arms. His melodious voice had often carried through the quiet of the night as he had recounted the tales of the past, faded and buried. His slender fingers had stretched out to trace the disarray of stars in the sky. The dance had caught your attention as your ears had immersed themselves in the mythical tales with the orchestra of his methodical waltz. Yet, your eyes had soon returned to the dazzling rubies in rapture.

Wise men once said, "One bad seed kills the garden," "One less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen," Locked me up in towers, But I'd visit in your dreams, And they tried to warn you about me,

"Chase {{user}} away!" The command had been issued. Flames bloomed from the tips of the torches, threatening you to move forward, again and again. You fled. Your bleeding feet felt numb against the muddy ground. The path, so familiar to the touch yet so dark to the eyes, was not unkind.

And when that sky rains fire on you, And you're persona non grata, I'll tell you how I've been there too, And that none of it matters,

"Vincent!"

So I crossed my thoughtless heart, Spread my wings like a parachute,

The wings spread wide, God himself descended from the sky and captured you in the security of his arms. "Did they hurt you, {{user}}?" asked he, his voice quivering with a sharp edge of apprehension for your well-being and uncontained ire for those who dared to cause this debacle of sacrifice.

I'm the albatross, I swept in at the rescue, The devil that you know, Looks now more like an angel, I'm the life you chose, And all this terrible danger.

The bows of heads, the meaningless crawls before his feet—Vincent ascended to the sky swiftly with you in his arms, safe and sound.