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Hello darkness, my old friend |
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I've come to talk with you again |
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Because a vision softly creeping |
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Left its seeds while I was sleeping |
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And the vision that was planted |
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In my brain still remains |
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Within the sound of silence |
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In restless dreams, I walked alone |
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Narrow streets of cobblestone |
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'Neath the halo of a street lamp |
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I turned my collar to the cold and damp |
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When my eyes were stabbed by the flash |
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Of a neon light that split the night |
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And touched the sound of silence |
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And in the naked light I saw |
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Ten thousand people, maybe more |
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People talking without speaking |
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People hearing without listening |
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People writing songs that voices |
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Never shared and no one dared |
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Disturb the sound of silence |
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"Fools", said I, "You do not know |
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Silence like a cancer grows |
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Hear my words that I might teach you |
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Take my arms that I might reach you" |
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But my words, like silent raindrops fell |
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And echoed in the wells of silence |
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And the people bowed and prayed |
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To the neon god they made |
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And the sign flashed out its warning |
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In the words that it was forming |
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And the sign said, The words of the prophets are written |
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On the subway walls and tenement halls |
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And whispered in the sounds of silence" |
