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2 Q9 P+ R5 q$ @. {6 j0 {2 X/ t( |Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, * m: `( I+ j- c) T/ r# B4 |
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, : `2 C: n' @, y9 w( r$ m1 s
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
" g" v/ Q- p& p& j: sCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. : p5 R A1 Z0 h7 l2 a& c2 `
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
* b p8 r8 b( e6 E9 vHow you suffered for you sanity, 2 `& ^; v: Z9 s9 u" f8 c: D( w! r) w' Y
How you tried to set them free,
1 j5 N. r. V) }5 b' c! ]They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. 8 v u, f4 F0 B
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
9 d* ]+ Y0 L# N( pSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, ! D: y9 @ W q: T: {. [$ E
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
% u n8 N3 I8 t( WWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. 6 Y) E" L- ]6 J, H: F6 H4 n2 g8 G
" O$ O. o. k& x+ W* O( e, \- U* S
For they could not love you, but still your love was true,
* \, `7 A6 B; r. mAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
8 c1 |' n0 _8 \& [) cYou took your life as lovers ofter do,
& y: c4 `' n4 ?: ~7 J- M1 rBut I could have told you, Vincent,
7 x4 c7 E% l8 n2 m6 zThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. ' u9 @% a. j D/ D
5 F9 Q& _- }3 v3 t3 \' P" N; yStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, " A4 x9 I( s# p; O
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
6 l. R" ?/ y$ r/ TLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, 0 d$ a) C' X7 J6 R
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. : }; z( X1 u( V; R
2 H* y7 _" C" {Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
/ [ D3 E5 A3 [7 Z" fHow you suffered for you sanity, [6 F, u( Z6 A2 @$ P5 J- s9 h
How you tried to set them free, % a* c/ O2 d1 o9 g( y
They would not listen they're not listening still,
! C3 s. W7 ?9 \4 y* M( |Perhaps they never will. |
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