Starry, Starry Night
Not a great movie though it had its moments - with Philip Seymour Hoffman stealing the show.
A particular scene brought back a powerful memory - a little boy listening to his his little 'transistor radio' under the covers at night - when he was supposed to be in bed sleeping.
I remember that so well and the song that came back to me after all these years was Starry, Starry Night - from the American singer songwriter - Don McLean.
The beautiful, haunting words had an incredible effect on me as a young teenager - even though I knew little about the life and times of Vincent Van Gogh - for the first time in my life I connected with power and emotion of the song.
It was a formative moment as they say - which has stayed with me for the rest of my life.
So here are the words to Starry, Starry Night - along with a fantastic You Tube link which plays the song - against the background of Vincent Van Gogh's most famous paintings.
http://youtu.be/oxHnRfhDmrk
Starry, Starry Night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
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 the 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.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field 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 your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
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 have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of 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...
