Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)

VINCENT (Starry, Starry Night)
By: Don McLean
Key: G

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Star-ry, star-ry night 
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paint your pal-ette blue and grey 
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look out on a sum-mer's day 
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with eyes that know the 
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dark-ness in my soul. 
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Shad-ows on the hills 
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sketch the trees and the daf-fo-dils 
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catch the breeze and the win-ter chills 
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in col-ors on the snow-y lin-en land. 

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Now I un-der-stand 
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what you tried to say to me 
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how you suf-fered for your san-i-ty 
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how you tried to set them free. 
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They would not lis-ten 
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they did not know how 
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per-haps they'll lis-ten now. 

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Star-ry, star-ry night
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flam-ing flow'rs that bright-ly blaze 
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swirl-ing clouds in vio-let haze 
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re-flect in Vin-cent's eyes of Chi-na blue. 
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Col-ors chang-ing hue 
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Morn-ing fields of am-ber grain 
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weath-ered fac-es lined in pain 
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are soothed be-neath the 
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art-ist's lov-ing hand. 

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Now I un-der-stand 
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what you tried to say to me 
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how you suf-fered for your san-i-ty 
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how you tried to set them free. 
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They would not lis-ten 
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they did not know how 
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per-haps they'll lis-ten 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 in sight 
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on that star-ry, star-ry night. 
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You took your life 
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as lov-ers of-ten do; 
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But I could have told you Vin-cent 
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this world was nev-er meant for one 
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as beau-ti-ful 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.