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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 in my brain |
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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 turn my collar to the cold and damp |
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When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light |
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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 never shared |
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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 on the subway walls |
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And tenement halls |
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And whispered in the sound of silence |
