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4 Y! G' W1 n) y& q* s1 H+ }$ h+ qStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
. ^; \$ N" M2 X6 c' H; y1 i2 GLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 5 L2 m5 @. x5 R! l+ I# r
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
% z* o5 J/ Z! a- R2 r4 f0 MCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. 9 x7 |; Z: C' l w8 b q
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,8 T& Z% f; C1 g# d$ T
How you suffered for you sanity, 3 w4 H- M! j$ I @8 N7 ?8 N
How you tried to set them free, ) j+ F( S- X5 y3 z5 q
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. ( Y0 r* b: A5 C1 S! d' O
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
4 @* T1 o! }, H& O% K2 |2 m( ^Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, / b# G2 a$ l, n3 [. W& X- \
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, ! A3 w& x" c3 y2 c
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. . m; v6 {# |: I2 H$ x& M! x
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For they could not love you, but still your love was true, g& L3 z( Z) k7 X+ j( G) F
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
/ _8 Z: i: P9 E; z$ X% b1 x- a& x {* VYou took your life as lovers ofter do,
. y" V: e) L4 l* ^3 vBut I could have told you, Vincent, + L+ V4 ~: E0 B9 I5 f, i" I9 J9 u
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
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) i9 O4 a0 |9 w; HStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, # Q$ d: z6 T! u
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. * y$ u: i0 B* }; `
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
2 Q7 Y3 u: e8 g4 c1 f- O! U5 OThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. . Z. R1 f/ l3 o6 R
5 I0 S0 B. T! R) |5 h0 N0 x& B, \: X
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
y* y+ o& y2 ]3 ]9 {How you suffered for you sanity,
; Y/ t+ ?( q2 d; uHow you tried to set them free,
4 b9 J8 Q6 p2 \% d+ U3 i0 bThey would not listen they're not listening still,
: D- s7 m' F% fPerhaps they never will. |
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