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& ?8 h4 q% Y) s% k2 N1 O% n# uStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ! P& [% t4 q0 V# w% A' g0 e0 l
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, , X4 l' {$ d2 {5 [( P# y' Z, J
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,) }0 m: M. l; U6 {/ i: B: \
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land. ; R. F- M) ?7 e7 F+ a
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
h w6 I! h3 |8 {9 v9 j+ h' sHow you suffered for you sanity, # B$ U: a8 o2 x
How you tried to set them free, ! @7 X* a+ U' Z3 ]* z' a1 v( @
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. 5 I0 m. J) [5 |) ~2 Z. c/ f
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
9 x% S9 t$ B8 P/ _8 _Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
7 D+ ^( H$ |" _1 J! U; oColors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, ( {6 W% \1 f% K- f: m8 ^
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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8 H" {+ X B% T7 oFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
/ V/ e) Q" O+ E+ |3 p" E4 a! lAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, , H% Q9 g1 T" O8 @
You took your life as lovers ofter do, : }" f, ?: Q" n4 E8 N
But I could have told you, Vincent,
|; {7 I( y0 G7 WThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. / {! \$ [, {: k9 ^- w
, M, S8 k! [% D; FStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, * o" R5 ?" y; _" f" B# W- M4 d
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. $ g' A6 W9 p2 U- \
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
2 T5 C, S$ `9 c2 aThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. $ N4 z% n: U4 x/ b1 } G/ B
3 S$ U& [9 P% s, w0 [Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, - S4 ^8 |& C! }0 j3 F
How you suffered for you sanity,; U5 t$ d9 |* B F& y
How you tried to set them free,
- h& r" D' p) B( c9 MThey would not listen they're not listening still, 1 n$ w# t3 ?4 p. T3 c d: t
Perhaps they never will. |
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