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 whispered in the sounds of silence.'