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Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ' `/ n+ y( Z T/ v4 p- _
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, . {9 c) o! S" E) n
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
% N) m8 y( s+ a5 J- @0 \* Q" d" vCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
( x3 ~- X" d" iNow I understand what you tried to say to me,
5 }0 j5 l4 }. h k% kHow you suffered for you sanity, / h$ D0 p! {5 q/ d) ]9 P& }
How you tried to set them free,
' k- ^, P! F0 u2 ~, I8 `' ~2 CThey would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
2 \& d7 m- z, GStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
+ f3 k6 \2 ^ b* W0 A9 hSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
6 G. ~: z2 f6 R" _( ]3 M3 U* bColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
; g8 M% L* y- q. D% D/ c6 Y: s& d; cWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. ( @/ P9 T. T% R; @8 K
0 w9 S# u8 t9 J0 v3 @* _" IFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
! x$ c2 ]9 n! }1 v W! |$ p' N9 }Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
v6 R% c8 ~" f+ u2 x( x4 g; nYou took your life as lovers ofter do,
4 T. P A( t, J1 J6 E" y& r. ~But I could have told you, Vincent,
2 b# j5 N* e, Y1 LThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. 4 J# f4 u- O; X2 t1 r5 A% _: u
( Q3 j2 X* h4 v' C7 V0 HStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
$ E3 P5 E* o: |! `% g7 yFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 4 Q6 O& E, R( u- S
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
, r: ^$ |% y* ]: r- |The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. $ E$ L1 c# j. g
5 z7 j" D( {" S# y$ M' VNow I think I know what you tried to say to me, 0 t& g' h: q8 R( {3 S1 h* {
How you suffered for you sanity,
1 _9 e0 p7 \9 H+ XHow you tried to set them free, 3 c' ~& L1 L4 L! ~' M$ W( f
They would not listen they're not listening still, 4 z8 h+ G s: [1 S
Perhaps they never will. |
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