Don McLean
Vincent
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 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
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, 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

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 often do --
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you