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! |/ W7 x) g$ M: p1 c& ?Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, 2 A/ L( y5 t! V. m3 z4 H: F
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
6 Q5 M8 ]) E" `, m1 J8 FShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
/ Z0 w. v+ l) T+ @& k( B" ~Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
: y) v3 D4 @, K- qNow I understand what you tried to say to me,- B' `* T( Q, s, H% L
How you suffered for you sanity, - F3 e2 \) c' e0 `$ ^. i/ O9 S" r
How you tried to set them free, ! X- n0 w u6 E; \" n. r! G( {
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. 9 S2 I3 M2 D9 \1 ^5 O* O
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, 1 V8 y2 x% q' J: B6 t
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, $ n& F! x1 V# G5 m& c
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, + X& t4 y/ T' e0 J3 I$ F: f8 `
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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For they could not love you, but still your love was true, 8 O7 q, P: P- |9 P" R
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, 9 T$ T; ?$ R2 D0 K/ ]9 R- m) r
You took your life as lovers ofter do, / n# e3 Z' s2 W. a9 q* a) _& Z
But I could have told you, Vincent,
1 ]3 l/ g( Z9 Z: z% K' GThis world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. " z8 `6 g8 L+ I0 b# T* q3 ~2 b; r
7 X8 g) Q; S: _Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
B) H% E5 m# L& n4 E4 IFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. 6 k; p/ D6 u. K, `' y
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, & v$ {! R* n$ S5 b* y1 S8 F6 e- ^
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. ) O5 q" o) g! K# _
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Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, . z1 H m" Z+ G6 @$ @7 \# T
How you suffered for you sanity,
, H$ ^& j; u0 n+ n/ u, x% A) U! @4 L" ZHow you tried to set them free, ! [) o1 X( Z, E0 x. ?# t4 W" E. o
They would not listen they're not listening still,
, M# P! b i( G. EPerhaps they never will. |
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