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+ `4 N0 v' W& D; s5 zStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, 9 R5 k0 @4 P+ p l; c+ J; o7 t0 N
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, ( ?: K+ ]* y/ I- @& x
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
7 B0 d- p2 S9 h; A: Y. H7 _0 o, ZCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
; _: m6 v. U8 }( {9 j8 |; e0 _/ wNow I understand what you tried to say to me,. E1 ^8 _0 ]' a) g- z
How you suffered for you sanity,
9 v4 g7 K) L7 n8 K! A$ O4 ]How you tried to set them free, ; ~# Y3 G2 F0 D/ g2 V. @
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
2 l* T# |9 F" H% }Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
- v( R) S! d4 O! q7 ?7 }7 @( j% bSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
% t; l0 Z: p: z W2 sColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
* g0 ]/ L8 j; a5 J: t$ TWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. ' W/ V% \, a* Z0 G+ b% i/ ?
1 c' C( x1 D: Z1 a o* LFor they could not love you, but still your love was true, - @1 B1 I+ k1 C' ?/ `/ S9 ? h5 B
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, , I- B! W* D. j
You took your life as lovers ofter do, % c7 y* E* Z+ l# D6 C% h3 [: X' z/ v [
But I could have told you, Vincent, , w( U% D* s, E, E/ |* Q# L
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
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Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
9 c$ k2 E# \) b- RFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
+ [% Y- X8 }4 L3 c9 H. m" s; SLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, 2 M# ~9 _# A2 }
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. + G! d0 C9 S \8 K
' G) \" J# E! f1 ?Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
& S4 f' G4 |+ X+ {/ k7 k3 pHow you suffered for you sanity,
) K( l4 x9 ?: O. c1 cHow you tried to set them free,
0 d! ?& ]! ?% U6 F5 CThey would not listen they're not listening still, # T9 ?1 ~& O# t; z3 q
Perhaps they never will. |
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