Esta canción es muy de hacer pellas con la guitarra en el parque de detrás del insti, ¿que no?
Don McLean
"Vincent"
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.
And 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 fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
And 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 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 of bloody rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
and 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.
Vamos, que más quisiera La Oreja de Van Gogh rendir un tributo de semejante talla a nadie.
Recordareis que a Don McLean ya le habíamos escuchado aquí. Buscando hoy cosas sobre él, he leído que, al oir la versión que Madonna hizo de su "American pie", dijo: "Había recibido muchos dones de dios, pero hasta ahora no había recibido un regalo de una diosa". Hay que ver, para que luego digan de las versiones... y de Madonna.
Y bueno, aquí os dejo un par de regalos de dios...
Don McLean
"Vincent"
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.
And 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 fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
And 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 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 of bloody rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
and 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.
Vamos, que más quisiera La Oreja de Van Gogh rendir un tributo de semejante talla a nadie.
Recordareis que a Don McLean ya le habíamos escuchado aquí. Buscando hoy cosas sobre él, he leído que, al oir la versión que Madonna hizo de su "American pie", dijo: "Había recibido muchos dones de dios, pero hasta ahora no había recibido un regalo de una diosa". Hay que ver, para que luego digan de las versiones... y de Madonna.
Y bueno, aquí os dejo un par de regalos de dios...
4 comentarios:
uff cuando pienso en la version a capella de Rebeka del Rio del "Crying" de McLean se me ponen todos los vellos de punta!
Y qué modosito estamos también, no?
Bonita canción que no conocía, pero es muy de estar abrazaditos bajo una manta en el salón de una cabañita frente a la chimenea, que no?
Besicos!
jooo! mi reino por estar en una cabañita y con mantica y todo!!!! mierda! y es lunes!! aggg!!! grr!!!
Jose: me he tenido que ir a la wiki pa ver quién era... ;)
Lux: ¿modositos? Empiezo hablando de hacer pellas y estamos modositos... pues cuando no lo estemos! XD
Isi: mapunto. Y tranqui, que ya es martes. A ver si este finde nos nieva, que es una gozada!!!
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