About The Song

“Vincent” is a song by Don McLean, written as a tribute to Vincent van Gogh. McLean wrote the lyrics in 1971 after reading a book about the life of Van Gogh. The song is often erroneously titled after its opening refrain, “Starry, Starry Night”, a reference to Van Gogh’s 1889 painting The Starry Night. The lyrics show McLean’s admiration for both the artist and his work. The song tells the story of one of the many people and places referenced within Don McLean’s seminal 1971 album, American Pie. The song is a beautiful tribute to the misunderstood artist and his tragic life and death. The official music video for the song was released on YouTube on February 14, 2017.

Video

Lyrics

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 the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And 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

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And 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’ve told you Vincent
This world was never meant for
One as beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame-less 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

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will