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$ e, ^- ~6 j2 N. X* N: _8 |Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
3 q8 O/ d# M2 s7 J" g( J1 JLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 9 J ?' d9 h% b' f$ J; p7 e, a
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,. ~) x/ D6 X+ I9 D; V
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
. L' X" ?( r* n2 F6 uNow I understand what you tried to say to me,8 o6 @; |) r3 M, s0 E. H
How you suffered for you sanity,
+ ~/ g( U- u" c5 ?2 M: i5 _0 |How you tried to set them free,
: Y8 T& @+ u" \3 VThey would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
0 G) f$ O+ m7 L- @: i: oStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, 9 d2 ^7 \ z/ h' c6 w( s$ A
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, 8 {& p2 l/ ?9 C# M5 h5 O; K g
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, # \8 m. p$ x: g8 ? O" `: H
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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; N9 ^& v3 V* P2 X5 H5 KFor they could not love you, but still your love was true, : S. f7 Z: o4 O1 ?
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, ' I. g/ C6 D3 k+ W, B$ f) P3 ]) }- `8 p- S
You took your life as lovers ofter do, . ^( z# c1 w# g
But I could have told you, Vincent, 0 k$ i; s; }1 T ^2 b+ w: ^- h( I" q
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. , C1 p% r! l% j) r- n1 ]1 G
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Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, # ?* e/ M1 \$ c
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
# n0 M1 H: p) A& F- ALike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, " {- `8 |8 I) ^* k+ u# d4 ?
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
% k( O6 c" c3 m8 v! V: s- N; L+ }% t" M$ o- l) W
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
3 Z6 r# c5 Y8 }* c4 m' ]- zHow you suffered for you sanity,: M* R, x4 f: r9 j6 O$ p! |
How you tried to set them free,
; Y$ c4 _4 F9 @: [They would not listen they're not listening still, 7 w7 L% t. R% X( i! m
Perhaps they never will. |
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