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Starry, starry night |
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Paint your palette blue and gray |
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Look out on a summer's day |
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With eyes that know the darkness in my soul |
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Shadows on the hills |
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Sketch the trees and the daffodils |
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Catch the breeze and the winter chills |
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In colors on the snowy linen land |
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Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me |
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And how you suffered for your sanity |
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And how you tried to set them free |
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They would not listen, they did not know how |
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Perhaps they'll listen now |
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Starry, starry night |
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Flaming flowers that brightly blaze |
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Swirling clouds in violet haze |
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Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue |
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Colors changing hue |
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Morning fields of amber grain |
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Weathered faces lined in pain |
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Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand |
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Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me |
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And how you suffered for your sanity |
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And how you tried to set them free |
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They would not listen, they did not know how |
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Perhaps they'll listen now |
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For they could not love you |
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But still your love was true |
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And when no hope was left inside |
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On that starry, starry night |
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You took your life as lovers often do |
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But I could have told you, Vincent |
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This world was never meant for one |
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As beautiful as you |
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Starry, starry night |
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Portraits hung in empty halls |
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Frame less heads on nameless walls |
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With eyes that watch the world and can't forget |
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Like the strangers that you've met |
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The ragged men in ragged clothes |
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The silver thorn of bloody rose |
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Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow |
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Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me |
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And how you suffered for your sanity |
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And how you tried to set them free |
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They would not listen, they're not listening still |
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Perhaps they never will |
