….. the notes of the last stanza finish and fade away in the silence of the near empty Tavern … the piano player stands and gently closes the fallboard...... still whistling the haunting tune, he walks quietly to the bar … Rocky pours him a drink of his usual....

“What was that song, Vincent?”, he asks, putting the glass in front of the player....

“Vincent!”, replies the player....

“Well – I know -but what was the song you just played?”

“That was it -  Vincent.  You'll remember it when I say the words.... (repeats in a kind of sing song)....  Starry, starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, nameless men on nameless walls, with eyes that watch the world and can't forget – like the strangers that you've met, the ragged men in ragged clothes, the silver thorn, the bloody rose, lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.”

“Oh, yeah – THAT Vincent.”

Vincent sings the last bit... “Now I think I know, what you tried to say to me, and how you suffered for your sanity – they would not listen, they're not listening still – perhaps they never will.”

“Yeah”, said Rocky, “That sums up a lot around here.  I mean, look at this lot... you could discuss the deeper meanings of life, show them that all the hoo-faroo just wasn't making the grade, and give them directions to the easy road of – I dunno – just some kind of peaceful gentle understanding and knowledge of life – and a lot of 'em just wouldn't know what you were talking about”.

“Yep, that about sums it up.  Lot of people just don't see what's in front of them – how someone sort of shows caring and such by DOING and giving – not with flowers grown in bullshit and flowery words to go with those.  I dunno – just the human condition.  Anyway – I've got a couple of little things to wrap here – wrap up kinda like one of those Russian babushka dolls – the Russian wife used to talk about those... I guess she was smart and crazy all at once.”

“Aren't they all.. aren't they all.”

“You said it, bro.”