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4 w5 }9 N4 m) b) ?$ k% WStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
9 @! p9 u* |5 Y5 `! OLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 0 ^" O% q/ P/ P+ L5 r, k% s6 P
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,' H' P! M5 n' ]% V6 G
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
& \/ C" _4 H" ZNow I understand what you tried to say to me,1 r) l: \1 E I; G& q5 {
How you suffered for you sanity, ; y# I* `9 r' S$ D3 Y. E
How you tried to set them free,
' C, L: ]& v) x& ^+ v3 u nThey would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. 1 P( p0 m( N7 S
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, . w# [% e6 N, p
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, 8 ^& S8 ^, }+ p l5 k
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
7 a$ ^, P$ N3 _ A1 H& j6 q" |2 PWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. 7 g3 y7 ~! R( e" Y- _: d: W; d
9 {3 ~' `8 e7 _, x2 Z$ IFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
7 g- W# P" C3 L; f3 Q: vAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
% S/ U$ T1 A( [+ G1 UYou took your life as lovers ofter do, y4 X8 @. ]" b$ z" z) n
But I could have told you, Vincent, 9 b+ S, U; J3 G
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
* z) j4 J/ J9 L7 F# g0 ~) p. X1 r$ W2 J8 ~% h* h3 L
Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, ' u ]& |. t p
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
. }' R: j% k. O; `; j6 E2 B' kLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, 0 g1 R) K" a$ r0 |+ @) c. C( \
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
5 v \3 w# ^. g$ u5 V6 a
1 C- d- L3 s, _0 l0 ?2 tNow I think I know what you tried to say to me, 5 _0 u1 q3 j( q4 p9 u, p7 R- v
How you suffered for you sanity,* V% J8 l0 [2 \! C% Z
How you tried to set them free,
+ x* _2 |& C9 u" f5 a! Q- l/ PThey would not listen they're not listening still,
8 p C) |. s) C; A( v) kPerhaps they never will. |
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