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Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ) \- m7 I4 X7 j
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 9 `+ j. O. z; }* {& v% v- P, k
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
3 B7 p; }/ v2 g: x' ^Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. ( o9 M8 }: l$ Q0 {! a
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
% {+ s/ W* H& c. xHow you suffered for you sanity,
- T7 w5 t) g5 k, Z: ?9 _How you tried to set them free,
! w& }1 ]6 [: j' B9 F$ |They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. ; u) L6 D8 T: ?$ _
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
1 \7 _. \1 v- i0 @$ G4 C$ A0 CSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, # a# u' | c7 r5 X: G8 X: n* T$ \: d/ r
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, 9 J* ~/ V2 o. C% k% X2 d
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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& n' c! J# G5 q- T9 @% m5 PFor they could not love you, but still your love was true, 6 E2 g+ h" @: v2 g7 q( {; x
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, ! \+ N" j( f4 g$ L; w! \
You took your life as lovers ofter do, ) F7 u7 e$ \" \
But I could have told you, Vincent,
0 |8 D3 v; D- i p6 ^- x! o. V7 ?2 yThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. $ y% k- X0 Z6 ?9 O, @7 O* V& k0 U
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Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, + B' M9 l$ X* Z& j& ?9 ~$ Z8 A0 B
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. " Z5 _: x7 A, D5 T) V3 _! g
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
9 o+ Z/ Y* U( m: y/ bThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. 4 N4 m' T; L% ]) V+ w- i# o6 N- c
" \: M- H1 C5 V2 \ }Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, 4 \* l9 C0 V9 W% z8 D
How you suffered for you sanity,
( k3 ?% V; s, ~' Q5 EHow you tried to set them free,
+ ~- x9 k* u, W; x8 q- ~- kThey would not listen they're not listening still,
4 H/ a. P- _7 fPerhaps they never will. |
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