| Starry, starry night
|
| Paint your palette blue and gray
|
| 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 of 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 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
|
| 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 listening still
|
| Perhaps they never will
|
| Vincent (Starry Starry Night) Starry, starry night
|
| Paint your palette blue and gray
|
| 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
|
| 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 of china blue
|
| Colors changing hue
|
| Morning fields of amber grain
|
| Weathered faces lined in pain
|
| Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hands
|
| 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 on a bloody rose
|
| Lie 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
|
| How you tried to set them free
|
| They would not listen they’re not listening still
|
| Perhaps they never will |