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 bloodied in the wheat oh what do you know about living in turbulent indigo brash fields crude crows in a scary sky in a golden frame roped off tourists guided by tourists talking about the madhouse talking about the ear the madman hangs in fancy homes they wouldn t let him near he d piss in their fireplace he d drag them through turbulent indigo i m a burning hearth he said people see the smoke but no one wants to warm themselves sloughing off a coat and all my little landscapes all my yellow afternoons stack up around this vacancy like dirty cups and spoons no mercy sweet jesus no mercy from turbulent indigo
['canadian singer-songwriter', 'folk', 'folk rock', 'singer-songwriter']