If you wander off too far, my love will get you home. If you follow the wrong star, my love will get you home. If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone, get back on your feet and think of me, my love will get you home. Boy, my love will get you home.
If the bright lights blinds your eyes, my love will get you home. If your troubles break your stride, my love will get you home. If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone, get back on your feet and think of me, my love will get you home. Boy, my love will get you home.
If you ever feel ashamed, my love will get you home. When there's only you to blame, my love will get you home. If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone, get back on your feet and think of me, my love will get you home. Boy, my love will get you home.
If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone, get back on your feet and think of me, my love will get you home. Boy, my love will get you home, Boy, my love will get you home
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...
