Don McLean - Vincent

starey starey night,
paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summers day,
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

Shad-ows 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 under stand
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.

starey starey night,
flaming flowrs that brightly biaze,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artists loving hand

And now i under stand
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 of ten do
but i could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for
one as beautiful as you

starey starey night,
portraits hung in empty halls,
frame less heads on name less walls,
with eyes that watch the world
and can't for get,

like the stran gers that you ve met,
the ragged men in ragged clothes,
the silver thorn of bloody 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 listning still perhaps
they never will

Don McLean - Vincent

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