Vincent

Written By Don McLean, 1971

listen

Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness of the 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 you 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 Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for you sanity How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now

And no they did 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