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
So it wasn't time travel, it was a vision.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn 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
I wonder what the neon light was?
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
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
10,000? It must have been a slow day at yahoo games. Hey, we talk all the time without speaking don't we?
"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 sound of silence
When I hear this part, I actually think of a sign that looks something like this.
;)
3 comments:
Great post! You reminded me of a Paul Simon performance on "Saturday Night Live"---he opened the first show back after 9/11 with "The Boxer". No kidding, and i wonder if we'll ever find tape of this again because he is chanting "Lie-la-lie" on a stage full of cops, fireman, and of course mayor Guilliani is standing there too. When i was watching it live i thought the choice of that song amoung all his others was exceptionally strange, and back then i wasn't even aware of all the 911 "truth" we all know now.
"I am just a poor boy and my storys seldom told
Ive squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm
When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station, runnin scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Li la li...
Asking only workmans wages, I come lookin for a job, but I get no offers
Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even me
I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be, thats not unusual
No it isnt strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
Li la li...
And Im laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin home
Where the new york city winters arent bleedin me, leadin me to go home
In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes he still remains
Li la li..."
Actually, I recently watched Paul Simon doing an interview with Barnes and Nobel where he described the songwriting process for sound of silence. He wrote it in his parent's bathroom - he regularly went in their to write songs, so "Hello darkness my old friend" is actually about him going back to write a song in the bathroom with the lights off... Ha!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcmmf9EeZ08&feature=related
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