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The Sounds of Silence


    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.

- Paul
Simon -
"Wednesday Morning 3A.M.", 1964

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