V I N C E N T VANGOGH

Starry, Starry night
paint your palette blue and grey

look out on a summer's day

with eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,

sketch the trees and the daffodils,
catch the breeze and the winter chills

in colors on the snowy linen land.
And now I understand

what you tried to say to me

how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They would not listen, they did not know how

perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night

flaming flowers that brightly blaze

swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent's eyes of China blue.

Colors changing hue

morning fields of amber grain

weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

.
And now I understand

what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They would not listen, they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you

but still your love was true
and when no hope was left in sight
on that starry starry night,

You took your life as lovers often do;
But I could have told you, Vincent
this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night

portraits hung in empty halls

frameless heads on nameless walls

with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the stranger that you've met

the ragged men in ragged clothes

the silver thorn of bloddy rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

And now I think I know
what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity

how you tried to set them free..
They would not listen, they're not list'ning still...

perhaps they never will.