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1 w( W! y* C* k2 J3 D: ?$ C6 ~1 BStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
3 f2 w6 l6 ^7 U1 KLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
2 o+ U( K. }; m& j' T% F" EShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
2 F* r" h' S# L; o+ CCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. 8 I# n7 c3 J1 B* o7 e
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,- s6 V8 M$ K; y- P0 T5 z$ d
How you suffered for you sanity, 9 o9 {' `9 P$ f& Y% ~( o- M1 M) o" m
How you tried to set them free, 7 y5 A& R+ [7 d/ N5 x, ?
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. ) a5 Q C# z% B g7 j. C
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
; z: k% j% d3 ], N% SSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
, A( r# J; v$ H: Z" F& dColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, # O9 W0 V4 g% K
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. / |) j/ I p/ F6 ]. Z
: J( l2 _5 V4 }0 f- }9 b+ LFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
1 Z F; c( M0 [Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
4 A3 F9 L$ [$ m3 M! AYou took your life as lovers ofter do, % i6 ^9 A9 y3 w; W0 W# {9 b
But I could have told you, Vincent, % R% R! y- z* A1 x# q. L' C
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. ; C0 U9 p, a& |# O$ x
% ]. [ @+ G# M1 E
Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
! Z, n( B( g2 X9 qFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 2 _% ^( r4 R& }0 O2 n
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, ( D9 ?1 N8 t9 j* E6 {- @
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
5 ]% R4 E' }1 a y. V1 R6 I" K. p1 A
( r6 H9 O4 q3 B3 w* INow I think I know what you tried to say to me,
3 K. `1 \! ^) HHow you suffered for you sanity,
. B, E8 k& h9 x7 E! |How you tried to set them free,
0 h! v. u8 |- U: p) }1 `& v5 c5 ~They would not listen they're not listening still,
8 w" E9 r# d" P z- f& s; T$ EPerhaps they never will. |
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