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Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again |
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Because a vision softly creeping, left it's seeds while I was sleeping |
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And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains |
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Within the sound of silence |
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In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobblestone |
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'Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp |
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When my eyes were stabbed by the flash 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 ten thousand people, maybe more |
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People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening |
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People writing songs that voices never share and no one dare |
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Disturb the sound of silence |
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"Fools" said I, "You do not know, silence like a cancer grows |
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Hear my words that I might teach you 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 to the neon god they made |
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And the sign flashed out its warning in the words that it was forming |
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And the sign said, 'The words of the prophets |
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Are written on the subway walls and tenement halls' |
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And whispered in the sounds of silence |