Спасибо, с некоторых комментов уржался в суфле, а что по теме, так только вот что на ум приходит:
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 streetlamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp,
When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of the neon light,
And 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 shared,
And no one dared to stir the sound of silence.
Fools, said I, you don't know,
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words and I might teach you,
Take my arms and 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'd made,
And the sign flashed its warning
In the words that it was forming,
And the sign sayed the words of the prophets are written
On the subway walls and tenement halls,
And whispered in the sound of silence.
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