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. East of halo of a street lamp, I turned my color to the cold and damp. When my eyes were slapped by the flash of a neon light, that split the night and touched the sound. And in the naked light I saw, ten thousand people maybe more. People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening. People writing songs their voices never shared. And no one there disturbed the sound of silence. For 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 raindrop fell. People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening. People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening. And the people bowed and prayed, to the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out each morning, in the words that it was for me. And the sign said the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls. And tenement halls had whispered in the sound. Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left its cheese while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains within the sound.