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 sound of silence.
|
|
In restless 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 sound 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 whisper'd in the sounds of silence.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Sound of Silence
|
Emiliana Torrini |