Sleeping Walking

哦，寂寞了。

身边没有人，父母都在上班，我却是个宅男，闷在家里，虽然外面的天气不错，可是依然呆在家里，因为在这个城市里没有什么朋友。好朋友们都远在千里之外，这里处处都是方言，不亚于鸟语。钻进公交车，就好像进入一个鸟笼子。

光棍节，也不知道是谁起的名字。我还真是惨，连个11都凑不起来。

其实也没有什么，只是看着朋友到处游玩拍下的美景，让我心里痒痒的很。

 

最近实在是有些无聊，所以一直在看溏心风暴，听着里面的插曲，觉得很好听，至少自己一个人的时候，很放松，好像什么烦恼都没有了，这首Vincent，听了好多遍。

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,
all 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...


end