When I was in secondary school, there was only one particular literature lesson which I remembered attending during my lower sec days. My literature teacher, who was a great teacher (just that I hated lit), brought in a recording of a song to teach us, immature brats, about something called poetry. Of course, it was more interesting as it came in a form of a song. But we didn't care to think much about it.

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 daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colours 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 and violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colours changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artists' loving hand

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
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

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...

Now, after so many years, when I finally heard this song and bothered to even look at the lyrics. I finally could comprehend a little, why my teacher loved this song so much. This is one of the few songs that, with more years of experience in life, the song's meaning just gets better, its like wine which becomes better with age. In a few years time, when I look at it again, it may hold new meaning.