Starry, starry night, portraits hung in empty halls.
Frameless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can’t forget.
Like the stranger that you’ve met, the ragged man in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for you sanity How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
I remember them playing this song along with vinyl they carried. We would come into smaller rooms in the Church youth club from playing football in the Large game area.
They pretended to be more intelligent yes bit aloofness about them. They fell away from faith they're then claiming.
But the song's about vision and mission to lost and fallen. The outsiders who Vincent reached in his outreach ministry.
Ragged outcast, not invited to the table. But the aloof in the safety of tridal gathering, first refused access to table, went on to reject the 'searcher' along with those he had gathered.
Very similar theme spoken into when watch film..'Babets feast'..another series of narratives about outsiders and detached being invited to the table.
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