| Hello darkness, my old friend
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| I’ve come to talk to you again
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| Because a vision softly creeping
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| Left its seeds when I was sleeping
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| And the vision that was planted in my brain
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| Still remains
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| Within the sounds of silence
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| And all the nights I walked alone
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| Down the streets of cobblestone
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| Beneath the halo of a street lamp
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| I turned my collar to the cold and damp
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| But what I saw there was the flash of a neon light
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| It hit the night
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| That split the sounds of silence
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| People line up even now
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| I wanna tell 'em where to go
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| Well, take my ears that I might hear you
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| Take my arms that I might reach you
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| And the sign said, «The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
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| And tenement halls»
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| Whispered sounds of silence
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| Yeah, they’re the sounds of silence
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| Within the sounds of silence |