Here comes another night And I found myself staring at the moonlight; Asking for the number of stars Dreaming to reach them no matter how far. Every other night, the stars are the same They all remind me of a name; Someone whom I used to know Who calls himself Vincent van Gogh. Vincent loves the stars And for that he became one; He seems so close and yet so far Like the moon and the blazing sun. He's out of my league, I must say Someone like Vincent is never for me; He's like the star shining up there I'm just nobody staring from here. I used to wonder if we're looking at the same star Or if he's staring at the other or at the rest of the stars that there are; Or maybe those stars remind him of someone else Or perhaps, just perhaps, we could be like in fairy tales. It is just another night But the thought of it remains the same; Still the stars remind me of him Still they spell out his pseudonym. Vincent.