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: b* W2 _5 R! X' f+ w/ E0 zStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ' Q3 |+ I. A# k: D2 T5 m. X+ }
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
; b/ T: z6 I# J; a( \3 YShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
. _* P$ c3 b3 M4 pCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
0 d' q% n) l! e! lNow I understand what you tried to say to me,
7 l9 ]6 n( H" \2 m- {& P \8 T. H5 jHow you suffered for you sanity, 4 p( E6 G+ {* J/ y& A$ e) S
How you tried to set them free, 5 P: f3 e4 I0 U' {
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. & C9 @" P3 P3 x: N5 o: t
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
, `2 B" r0 R; |2 ]+ YSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
8 r% c4 w0 e# `9 _ O% `0 g: j2 HColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
) V2 e+ M' ]4 {Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
y, [2 {2 h" m
! T' k8 l+ ~7 A5 M! p1 g& @For they could not love you, but still your love was true,
' E' c, {: q5 n' f. LAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
# j Y$ Y) w/ X8 Q# ?: i5 qYou took your life as lovers ofter do, 6 v3 r& _8 H9 L) q6 L" o
But I could have told you, Vincent, 8 q/ e5 o9 [8 n# N. k# g+ F& o* u
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. " z4 M% E! j7 M& }4 k2 c, N4 M
, |* e4 c# f$ IStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, 2 ^7 h l* A2 n# T7 A X
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
% }4 A3 C3 a3 ]; uLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
/ f9 p6 k# ]( J. Y- I; V" e1 IThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. & U6 T9 J& L, ?
% I" y F. ]+ |0 E4 S$ C
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
$ z c6 l+ x/ N" M* q3 LHow you suffered for you sanity,
1 K" ]: {/ j; y6 G1 a3 h3 kHow you tried to set them free, & p* Q5 }) X" f# q
They would not listen they're not listening still,
( n/ x6 \. h% ?8 MPerhaps they never will. |
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