The Sound of Silence

Hello darkness my old friend,

I’ve come to talk with you again.

Because a vision softly creeping

Left it’s seed while I was sleeping,

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sounds of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone,

Narrow streets of cobble stone.

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 shared,

And no one dared

Disturb the sounds 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 out to you.”

But my words like silent raindrops fell

And echoed in the wells of silence.

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon gods 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.