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Chloe Agnew - Vincent |
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Starry, starry night |
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Paint your pallette blue and gray. |
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Look out on a summer's day |
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With eye's that know the darkness in my soul. |
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Shadows on the hills |
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Sketch the trees and 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 |
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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 |
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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've told you, Vincent: |
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This world was never meant |
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For one as beautiful as you. |
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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, a bloody rose |
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Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. |
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Now I think I know |
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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 |
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