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) H9 X* Z0 n5 VStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
2 m7 {5 g* z/ ~Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 5 @3 N" _+ K, g) r
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
/ b( M$ p2 E" q+ p, WCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
& N/ ?2 ?* O8 f6 f! z7 R4 A8 E! INow I understand what you tried to say to me,$ t! R& D3 c; h Q6 x" b4 r
How you suffered for you sanity, 8 l+ b/ @6 ]8 P5 _# m% g
How you tried to set them free, 7 c: {: n- x! H: ~
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. 5 b% V8 q6 V1 t
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, $ _- o$ T/ s3 O8 c+ F. P
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
9 p# V2 u d4 @5 {/ \; DColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
& j1 \. _+ B# {" r2 V( m0 l9 r5 ZWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. % Q! z V6 J) p1 V3 n t- ^
. Z1 V3 Q5 _9 ~9 U* VFor they could not love you, but still your love was true, 4 D! G9 z5 {/ F: g6 q
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, ; y/ W4 U$ G+ g
You took your life as lovers ofter do,
s* s! j+ a0 Z5 i5 [- N8 N/ dBut I could have told you, Vincent, " c3 H2 P% f' _' C* ^# F& N& W
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. 0 B6 A- ^7 i4 t# L8 [. \2 t" H
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Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, 6 g3 j0 K( [& Z2 K5 C6 l! H; e
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 9 R/ a2 p. k& o, b# p! \3 ]' f' @
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, ; o4 J) ?& y5 a, H1 Q( d' C2 y% N+ W
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. $ d) A. q2 x5 h
/ s1 b- e. p3 M! S/ z5 N( _$ hNow I think I know what you tried to say to me, ; T# [, V- t" R9 Z; R# \
How you suffered for you sanity,
# P2 H) p) n8 L2 \" [9 rHow you tried to set them free,
' `' X j7 K8 b. T$ h; wThey would not listen they're not listening still, 7 P! p+ f) R/ }. S2 O4 f
Perhaps they never will. |
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