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, T$ a4 t/ s6 P6 p5 tStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ) a6 k# B4 h( S. O- H0 Z9 F
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 2 j2 l$ S! z% A3 q! F9 i
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,& R' z' x* Y2 u; v1 @, o. b. X* z( I
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. 5 f+ s0 x& b4 f+ i' X
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
B2 P+ g, P7 ]4 n# N: K! oHow you suffered for you sanity,
3 {( q' E0 Q) ~, N, m) j% FHow you tried to set them free, % I# x {. P8 _- H3 u: y
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
2 x: P' ^8 T& N* WStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, ! Q$ b* |& Z0 e( g- x, ]3 O
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
7 k, D1 w1 l6 t5 \Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
. o' g& E. l/ c4 m5 nWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. ) \5 Q: L; G4 K- d
5 d% ^- P% L$ wFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
3 z' W2 \" d- n+ @# E! PAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, 6 F( B' _$ _) f! T
You took your life as lovers ofter do, ! z- }* n# m/ d( I' O4 A" ^ C7 c
But I could have told you, Vincent,
: q! Q8 l: y9 f+ _* C3 v( c t, g: K/ RThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. & R7 Y8 u7 O, T* \" E
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Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
1 A' D, r4 \2 a. GFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 6 o$ Y9 n' B2 i, a3 R7 w$ m. Q4 U
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, U# K2 H/ u K, Q) W2 L
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
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* i% i( h4 K( a0 N9 UNow I think I know what you tried to say to me, + s8 E) S3 a) X5 v1 C
How you suffered for you sanity,4 s0 Q$ c, L) r3 e! a
How you tried to set them free,
" ]; x" V( T9 G/ `$ d( u" IThey would not listen they're not listening still, ; m% w: R) [, y& \+ H3 S
Perhaps they never will. |
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