V I N C E N T


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 colours on the snowy linen land.

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
Reflecting Vincent's eyes that shine of blue.
Colours changing hue.
Morning fields in amber grey,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

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 inside
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 strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes;
A silver thorn, a bloody rose;
Lies crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.