In a painting by Van Gogh

Saw a street covered with black snow

The people move in a nervous stripe

Of blues, red and yellow

Read your letter for the seventh time

The ink is getting close to fade away

But it still brings the ocean back to mind

In this here desert without oases



Shouting at the man in the moon

I'll make it up to you, make it all up to you

The rhythm and the dance of the loon

I'll make it all up to you, make it all up to you

And the night is a horoscopic sight

While the sun sets fire to the dune

I'll make it all up to you



I remember your face and your Picasso

Pale as sugar, sweet and low

Your hair in a ponytail and dyed

Eyes looking up from down below

Looking for an excuse to make it real

Cause I can't see the help the way that I feel

Looking for an excuse to make it real

Cause I cannot help the way that I feel



I've been shouting at the man in the moon

I'll make it all up to you, I'll make it up to you

The rhythm and the dance of the loon

I'll make it up to you, I'll make it up to you

And the night is a horoscopy sight

While the sun sets fire to the dune

I'll make it all up to you

I've made it all up to you