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* O( {5 c j X& q& }3 A w. j8 PStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
% V i, p0 x, t/ E2 R7 ~3 M2 B1 uLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
1 |2 H% @3 {4 ~& jShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
) G; Q) B, Y( h$ Y1 R3 KCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. ; ^$ `* j* m0 w% Q
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
9 S/ k3 I# i: B4 k& Q0 fHow you suffered for you sanity, " k! s+ Y' T- o* o5 y" c8 f3 x% d
How you tried to set them free, - S5 C, I* t& O# ]) n
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
! d! x8 R# q% A [1 S3 q; s$ WStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
0 Q. a7 F) \! o: @0 r( L. YSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
1 B! |7 X1 Z. u5 l3 qColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, 6 D; W$ L9 m* }6 }+ S- B& o; ]
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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* ^1 l9 _, i, xFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
4 \! j- L6 u3 o9 b8 b P% cAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, / u% S4 Z- d$ k# g4 L% K
You took your life as lovers ofter do, # p, `/ ~1 c3 j. a/ ~
But I could have told you, Vincent, 6 h8 P$ M& M2 L; b$ I7 A" N
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
/ U" T9 j$ M& L2 k" d! i/ k% e; C- N+ p; A# T- L+ L& d! ^
Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, b4 Y, i% F0 U4 h8 b- \: y: {
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 2 A# l: D8 n" ?: @7 ^
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
5 e; C" Z7 J% a8 oThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. # L1 y( o" ]- i) |! f
+ C) |$ k- Q6 V0 x3 B+ bNow I think I know what you tried to say to me,
: i7 f9 W" c; i/ jHow you suffered for you sanity,1 y* ~2 N5 O6 i/ G- p
How you tried to set them free, % `" Y6 D" L( z) x2 p3 k) v
They would not listen they're not listening still, / z6 L; i K. L0 O; O, u: K, p
Perhaps they never will. |
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