For you are the Vincent of my starry starry night painted with palette blue and gray on a summer's day.
The withered face lined with pain.
And when no hope is left in sight on that starry starry night, I hope you won't do as lovers often do...
For this world was never meant for the beautiful to die.
For love is only for the weak, but it is the same antidote to be strong.
For you could be nameless, faceless...
But you are you to me.
The dream come true.
The wish upon a star that came to life.
You are my shooting star.
