Hello darkness, my old friend

I’ve come to talk with you again,

because a vision softly creeping,

left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

still remains

within the sounds of silence.

In endless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

‘Neath the halo of a street lamp,

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sounds of silence

And in the naked light, I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking,

People hearing without listening.

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dare

Disturb the sound of silence.

“Fools” said I, “You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you,

Take my arms that I might reach you”

But my words like silent raindrops fell

And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed

to the neon god they made

and the sign flashed out its warning

in the words that it was forming

And the sign said, “The words of the prophets

are written on the subway walls

and tenement halls”

and whispered in the sounds of silence.

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