This was requested in the newsletter, you don't have a Don McLean section,
so I guess you could add one, or this was also recorded by Barbara
Fairchild, so I guess you could put it there. Keep the music alive!
Dan Mooney
Vincent
By Don McLean
Starry starry [G]night, paint your palette [Am]blue and grey Look out on a
[C]summer's day with [D7]eyes that know the darkness in my [G]soul
Shadows on the [G]hills, sketch the trees and the [Am]daffodils
Catch the breeze and the [C]winter chills, in [D7]colors on the snowy
linen [G]land [C] [G]
Now I under[Am]stand [D7]what you tried to [G]say to me [Em]How you suffered
for you [Am7]sanity[D7] How you tried to set them[Em]free They would not
listen they did [A7]not know [Am7]how [D7]Perhaps they'll listen [G]now
Starry starry [G]night, flaming flowers that [Am]brightly blaze Swirling
clouds in [C]violet haze [D7]reflect in Vincent's eyes of china [G]blue
Colors changing [G]hue, morning fields of amber [Am]grain Weathered faces
[C]lined in pain are [D7]soothed 'neath the artist's loving [G]hand [C]
[G]
Chorus
[G]For they could not [Am7]love you, [D7]but still your love was [G]true
[F#] [E] And when no [Am7]hope was left in sight, on that [Cm]starry
starry night You [G]took your life as [F7]lovers often [E7]do, But I
[Am7]could have told you, Vincent, This [C]world was never meant for one as
[D7]beautiful as you
Starry, starry [G]night, portraits hung in [Am]empty halls Frameless heads
on [C]nameless walls with [D7]eyes that watch the world and can't for[G]get.
Like the stranger that you've [G]met, the ragged man in [Am]ragged clothes
The silver thorn of [C]bloody rose, lie [D7]crushed and broken on the virgin
[G]snow [C] [G]
Now I th[Am]ink I know [D7]what you tried to [G]say to me [Em]How you
suffered for you [Am7]sanity[D7] How you tried to set them [Em]free They
would not listen they're [A7]not listening [Am7]still [D7]Perhaps they never
[G]will
so I guess you could add one, or this was also recorded by Barbara
Fairchild, so I guess you could put it there. Keep the music alive!
Dan Mooney
Vincent
By Don McLean
Starry starry [G]night, paint your palette [Am]blue and grey Look out on a
[C]summer's day with [D7]eyes that know the darkness in my [G]soul
Shadows on the [G]hills, sketch the trees and the [Am]daffodils
Catch the breeze and the [C]winter chills, in [D7]colors on the snowy
linen [G]land [C] [G]
Now I under[Am]stand [D7]what you tried to [G]say to me [Em]How you suffered
for you [Am7]sanity[D7] How you tried to set them[Em]free They would not
listen they did [A7]not know [Am7]how [D7]Perhaps they'll listen [G]now
Starry starry [G]night, flaming flowers that [Am]brightly blaze Swirling
clouds in [C]violet haze [D7]reflect in Vincent's eyes of china [G]blue
Colors changing [G]hue, morning fields of amber [Am]grain Weathered faces
[C]lined in pain are [D7]soothed 'neath the artist's loving [G]hand [C]
[G]
Chorus
[G]For they could not [Am7]love you, [D7]but still your love was [G]true
[F#] [E] And when no [Am7]hope was left in sight, on that [Cm]starry
starry night You [G]took your life as [F7]lovers often [E7]do, But I
[Am7]could have told you, Vincent, This [C]world was never meant for one as
[D7]beautiful as you
Starry, starry [G]night, portraits hung in [Am]empty halls Frameless heads
on [C]nameless walls with [D7]eyes that watch the world and can't for[G]get.
Like the stranger that you've [G]met, the ragged man in [Am]ragged clothes
The silver thorn of [C]bloody rose, lie [D7]crushed and broken on the virgin
[G]snow [C] [G]
Now I th[Am]ink I know [D7]what you tried to [G]say to me [Em]How you
suffered for you [Am7]sanity[D7] How you tried to set them [Em]free They
would not listen they're [A7]not listening [Am7]still [D7]Perhaps they never
[G]will
