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& Z% y& Q. f$ }1 d) E# L! FStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
5 b! C9 o$ ]( D. e' o. x. rLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 0 r& p8 x( N/ ?, y( i0 Z: \
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,( F6 V9 i, x; I/ e8 v2 x6 k7 R
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
( z& H# {# Y4 [1 h4 wNow I understand what you tried to say to me,
9 [* X! X$ {; @# D$ P: V, f. X/ zHow you suffered for you sanity,
( _: ?4 ]8 C- r! U3 m. Y1 LHow you tried to set them free, $ ]6 M/ @ V1 e ` M* Q5 X
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now. % S& J6 x0 C. M8 Q8 Q* L8 ]
Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
) e! l7 v9 A( fSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, 4 Q+ z+ Y, ?+ r' z" ?
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
2 D; y2 B. S& z5 b9 gWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
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8 @6 H' X' d- ?' T% U1 W5 XFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
+ K8 i, F% d% Q1 wAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, 9 v7 W/ i) `9 g" t3 C5 ?5 n
You took your life as lovers ofter do,
0 s& N1 E/ ~0 P" K S5 O& M( i# WBut I could have told you, Vincent, ( f+ }/ w' p1 s6 z4 V+ ]! H
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. / G3 @! |' V) y+ \5 R$ g0 D
( N0 Z f1 {7 R3 BStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
7 _5 i; j6 D" tFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
1 ?& a( v# O; K- @0 DLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
+ p7 l% r d( X5 s3 ?5 Y4 nThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
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Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, . M3 ]2 j5 l5 M$ v& E: F% K* Q! o
How you suffered for you sanity,
2 J# S0 m% A& G4 u% H! A' [7 R. W2 AHow you tried to set them free, ) T" ?1 b5 x3 Z \
They would not listen they're not listening still, 2 D* C. M. L, Z4 c4 h
Perhaps they never will. |
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