Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)

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Starry starry night          Paint your palette blue and grey,

                                                        

Look out on a summer's day, with eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

                          

Shadows on the hills,          sketch the trees and the daffodils, catch

                                                    

the breeze and the winter chills, in colors on the snowy linen land.  

ESTRIBILLO:

                             

 Now I understand     what you tried to say to me,  

                                                      

How you suffered for your sanity,     how you tried to set them free.

                                      

They would not listen, they did not know how  .

                 

Perhaps they'll listen now.

                         

Starry starry night          flaming flowers that brightly blaze,

                                                         

Swirling clouds in violet haze, reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.

                            

 Colors changing hue,            morning field of amber grain,

                                                            

Weathered faces lined in pain, are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

ESTRIBILLO:

                             

 Now I understand     what you tried to say to me,  

                                                    

How you suffered for your sanity  , how you tried to set them free.

                                                        

They would not listen, they did not know how     perhaps they'll listen now.

                                              

For they could not love you     but still your love was true.   

                                      

And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night,

                              

You took your life, as lovers often do. But I could have told you,

                                                 

Vincent, This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.   

                              

Starry, starry night,           portraits hung in empty halls, frameless head

                                                    

on nameless walls, with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.

                                              

Like the strangers that you've met           the ragged men in the ragged clothes,

                                                            

The silver thorn of bloody rose, lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

ESTRIBILLO:

                                

 Now I think I know      what you tried to say to me,  

                                                    

How you suffered for your sanity  , how you tried to set them free.

                                             

They would not listen, they're not listening still   .

             

Perhaps they never will.

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