Vincent is the French version of a masculine name. As the Spanish Vicente, it is derived from the Latin name Vincentius meaning "conquering" (from Latin vincere, "to conquer" and Vincent "He/She/It is conquering). Vincent may refer to:
Many people named Vincent are better known by the diminutives "Vince", "Vinny", or "Vinnie".
Donald "Don" McLean (born October 2, 1945, New Rochelle, New York) is an American singer-songwriter. He is most famous for the 1971 album American Pie, containing the renowned songs "American Pie" and "Vincent".
Both McLean's grandfather and father were also named Donald McLean. The Buccis, the family of McLean's mother, Elizabeth, came from Abruzzo in central Italy. They left Italy and settled in Port Chester, New York, at the end of the 19th century. He has other extended family in Los Angeles and Boston.
As a teenager, McLean became interested in folk music, particularly the Weavers' 1955 recording At Carnegie Hall. Childhood asthma meant that McLean missed long periods of school, particularly music lessons, and although he slipped back in his studies, his love of music was allowed to flourish. He often performed shows for family and friends. By age 16 he had bought his first guitar (a Harmony acoustic archtop with a sunburst finish) and begun making contacts in the music business, becoming friends with folk singer Erik Darling, a latter-day member of the Weavers. McLean recorded his first studio sessions (with singer Lisa Kindred) while still in prep school.
Plot
A seemingly normal teenager takes a book out of the library titled "The Number 24". As he begins to read the book, he becomes fascinated and obsessed with the demonic phrases and references. As he dwells deeper into the book and its secrets, he begins to fall into a world of suffering and murder as he stumbles deeper and deeper into the realms of insanity. With little mental strength left, he tries to piece together the intricate pieces of the puzzle behind the novel before it's too late.
Keywords: blood, book, insanity, murder, number, obsession, spoof, twist, violence
How far can you push someone before they go over the edge?
Brandon: It's everywhere! It's ruining my fucking life!
Brandon: You have to turn the safety off.
Brandon: Hey, you like my hair? I dyed it.::Adrian: No.
Plot
In this Bergman-like psychological drama, a schizophrenic man, Vincent, had an epiphany one day to paint on sunflowers. Due to his psychological past, he's being inspired and manipulated by a mysterious friend, Edward. Vincent had to make a choice to either to paint his masterpiece or get strapped in a straight jacket.
A portrait of madness.
Plot
At 3, Julien Vannier has remained very childish. Why is that so? Maybe because at the early age of ten, he was told that his father was either his mother's first or second husband. Whatever the case may be, it is now his turn to become a father. His girlfriend Eva is indeed pregnant. Will this experience make him a mature responsible human being ?
For one young boy, a passion can be more than just a dream.
Plot
Invisible aliens in a tiny flying saucer come to Earth looking for heroin. They land on top of a New York apartment inhabited by a drug dealer and her female, androgynous, bisexual nymphomaniac lover, a fashion model. The aliens soon find the human pheromones created in the brain during orgasm preferable to heroin, and the model's casual sex partners begin to disappear. This increasingly bizarre scenario is observed by a lonely woman in the building across the street, a German scientist who is following the aliens, and an equally androgynous, drug-addicted male model. (Both models are played by Anne Carlisle, in a dual role.) Darkly funny and thoroughly weird.
Keywords: actress-playing-male-role, alien, alien-abduction, androgyny, color-filter, cult-film, day-glo, death-by-orgasm, disintegration, drugs
Adrian: Shut up before I cut your face and nobody's gonna want to fuck your ugly cunt!
Adrian: Margaret... is an uptight WASP cunt from Connecticut
Margaret: I kill with my cunt.
Margaret: You wanted to know where I'm from? I'm from Connecticut, Mayflower stock. I was taught that my prince would come, and he would be a lawyer, and I would have his children. And on the weekends we would barbecue. And all the other princes and their princesses would come, and they would say, "Delicious, delicious." Oh, how boring. [She turns off the light and begins applying fluorescent makeup] So I was taught that I should come to New York, become an independent woman. And my prince would come, and he would be an agent, and he would get me a role, and I would make my living waiting on tables. I would wait - till thirty, till forty, till fifty. And I was taught that to be an actress, one should be fashionable, and to be fashionable is to be androgynous. And I am androgynous not less than David Bowie himself. And they call me beautiful, and I kill with my cunt. Isn't it fashionable? Come on, who's next? I'll take lessons. How to get into show business: be nice to your professor. Be nice to your agent. Be nice to your audience, be nice. How to be a woman: want them when I want you. How to be free and equal: fuck women instead of men, and you'll discover a whole kingdom of freedom. Men won't step on you anymore, women will. So come on, who's next? Who wants to teach me? Come on, teach me. Are you afraid? You're right, because they're all dead. All my teachers.
Margaret: Whether or not I like someone doesn't depend on what kind of genitals they have.
Owen: At the turn of the century heroine was available at every corner drugstore. Any housewife could get some for a headache.::Katherine: I am not a turn of the century housewife and I don't want heroine in my house.
Jimmy: And this chicken is the Miss America of the 80s?::Adrian: No, Jimmy. You are. [singing] Here he is, Miss America...::Designer: No. I think Margaret is Miss America.::Photographer: I think it's Jimmy.::Jack: You just say that because you're gay::Designer's Assistant: Oh, he's not gay all the time!::Photographer: I seriously think Jimmy is the new Miss America. He has all the mannerisms of a sex symbol.::Jack: That's what we should call this! Make it a series. "The two Miss Americas."::Photographer: Great idea! And we could end it with the two of them fucking!::Margaret: He can't fuck.::Jimmy: I can too fuck. I just can't fuck you.
Johann: I'm sorry, but duty is more important than shrimps.::Sylvia: Oh. [laughs] Well, the duty is yours, the house is mine. And in my house, shrimps are more important than duty.
Sylvia: That's really quite a world that you've shown me. German scientists are as tall as the Empire State Building, and aliens are as big as jumbo shrimp.
Margaret: That's the only thing I care about, my career. What do you think I'm doing right now? I'm getting ready to shoot with a professional photographer who I met at the club, who's gonna come here...::Owen: Wally wants to go to bed with you.::Margaret: Nobody - nobody fucks at the club, everybody's gay! It's you that thinks about fucking all the time.::Owen: Your vocabulary is punctuated by two words: "shit" and "fuck."
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray.
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chill
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Chorus
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen.
They did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling cloud and violet haze
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue.
Mourning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hands.
Chorus
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
Like the strangers that you’ve met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity.
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen.
They’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand, what you tried to say to me
They did not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Vincent came to my window
He watched me as I undressed
I could tell he liked what he saw
Yeah, he was impressed
A little while later
There's a knock on my door
Found a bouquet of roses
Wrapped in silk upon the floor
And deep in the petals
A note by his hand
Asking what could he say to me
To make me understand
(I said) look, all it takes
Put the truth in the promise you make
Just don't tell me you love me
If it's not how you feel
I don't want your empty promises
Tell me what is real
Really
Vincent took me to dinner
A walk on the beach
Falling stars shimmered and burst
In waves upon upon our feet
He said he would love me
Yeah he'd never leave
He placed the heel of his hand on my heart
And said I must believe
I said - look all it takes
Put the truth in the promise you make
Just don 't tell me you love me
If it's not how you feel
I don't want your empty promises
Tell me what is real
You've got this misconception
I don't have needs
Our bodies work in the same direction
So ask me - please
And then it's up to me I guess
It could be no
But it might be - yeah, yeah, yeah
Don't tell me don't tell me
No don't tell me
No no no no no no no
Don't tell me you love me
If it's not how you feel
I don't want your empty promises
Tell me what is real
There's no price you could offer
That would buy you my bed
I don't want your empty promises
Say what's in your heart
And in your head
I went to vincent's window
I watched him undress
I could tell he liked that alot
Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul Shadows on the hill Sketch the trees and daffodils Catch the breeze and winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land. Now i understand what you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen They did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now Starry, starry night Portraits hung in empty halls Frameless heads on nameless walls With eyes that watch the world And can't forget like strangers That you've met Ragged men in ragged clothes The silver thorn, a 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 your sanity And you tried to set them free: They would not listen They're not listening still Perhaps they never will For they could not love you But still, your love was true And when no hope was left inside On that starry, starry night You took your life as lovers often do But i could've told you, Vincent This world was never meant for one As beautiful as you.
sometimes I could see
how cutting an ear off might be
the most productive and satisfying thing to do
because sometimes I feel
my insides are heavy
as heaven must be on the sky
I paint a starry night
I seal my heart in the brightest colors
I hope someone finds it there
and it makes them feel the way I do
it could be that would be enough
it could be that would be enough
Wednesdays he feels
just like a lack-a-day
been trying too hard all week
but he's got no money to show
so he makes himself
squeeze into the pocket of a flock of pants
fits just like a rock inside a shoe
in everyone he falls right through
so he paints a starry night
he seals his heart in the brightest colors
he hopes someone finds it there
and it makes them cry
makes them want to take him home to dinner
like a long lost lover
like an only child
like his younger brother
it could be that would be enough
it could be that would be enough
sometimes when he feels
his insides are heavy
as heaven must be on the sky
he goes to the familiar
emptiness of a blank canvas
to fill it with the riches of a lonely poor man
he steals into his brushes
to make his life amend, amend
he paints a starry night
seals his heart in the brightest colors
he hopes someone finds it there
and it makes them cry
makes them want to take him home for dinner
like a long lost lover
like an only child
like his younger brother
like a soul unfurled
like his favorite girl
out of this cold cold world
it could be that would be enough
it could be that would be enough
A wet coloured paintbrush and a white house by night
A landscape with a ploughman and another house beside
Sunflowers and cornfields and an easel down below
A strawhat on a mournful face is all that we know
Oil-colour-canvases and pictures in frames
Who asks for paintings of a guy with no name?
"Brother, can you help me, I´m stone broke again
Tomorrow I´ll sell it all to an art-businessman"
Hard times for an artist with contrary mind
Scaramongers everywhere, short-sighted and blind
Novelty was out of time, boundary´s effaced
It´s better to make and end that to live in disgrace
Spot-painted poetry, living in quandary
Outside a gallery derided and chased
Life is a lottery without a warranty
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and winter chills
And colors on the snowy linen land
What you tried
To say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And yow you tried
To set them free
They could not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
And when no hope
Was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life
As lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Starry, starry night, paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free they would not
listen
They did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night, flaming flowers that brightly
blaze
Swirling clouds and violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artists' loving hand
Now I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free, they would not
listen
They did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you, but still your love was
true
And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry
night
You took your life as lovers often do, but I could have
told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Like crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free, they would not
listen
Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer's day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul Shadows on the hills Sketch the trees and daffodils Catch the breeze and the winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand what you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps, they'll listen now
Starry, starry night Flaming flowers that brightly blaze Swirling clouds in violet haze Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue Colors changing hue Morning fields of amber grain Weathered faces lined in pain Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand what you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps, they'll listen now For they could not love you And still your love was true And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry night You took your life as lovers often do But I could have told you, Vincent This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night Portraits hung in empty hall Frameless heads on nameless walls With eyes that watch the world and can't forget Like the strangers that you've met The ragged man in ragged clothes The silver thorn of bloody rose Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Their hearts was a jeweler she polished everyday
With little acts of kindness as she went along her way
She was No picture for your wall
Some times saints don't looks like saints at all
He raised her children by him self
And they were left alone
He fed their wounded hearts with love until they had their own
He seemed so insignificant and small
Sometimes Saints don't look like saints at all
Saints aren't always blessed simply faces
Angels can be found unexpected places
They're not that hard to recognize
You can tell them by the little bits of heaven in their eyes
He drinks too much and swears more then he should some people say
But they don't count the precious hours of life he gives away
To help the weak and humble when they fall
Sometimes Saints don't look like saints at all
Saints aren't always blessed simply faces
Angels can be found unexpected places
They're not that hard to recognize
You can tell them by the little bits of heaven in their eye
Music ............
Sometimes Saints don't look like saints at all
Saints aren't always blessed simply faces
Angels can be found unexpected places
They're not that hard to recognize
You can tell them by the little bits of heaven in their eyes
She sacrificed her early life and all she might have known
To keep her Aging mother from the fear of being alone
How she sits alone herself while Shadows fall
Sometimes saints don't look like saints at all
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
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 strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn on a 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 your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame less heads 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 of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summers day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity, how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity, and how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could've told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the 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 your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.