Vincent - Don McLean
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.
If you really were still here, I would have said happy birthday daddy,
and even you're not here, I would still love to say; happy birthday daddy.







