Bubijeva pesmarica

f#Hello darkness, my old friEend
I've come to talk with you agf#ain.
Because a vision softlyD​ creepAing
Left it's seeds while I wDas sleepAing.
And the vDision that was planted in my brAain
still remaf#ins within the soEund of silf#ence.
f#In restless dreams I walk aloEne
Narrow streets of Cobblestonf#e.
'Neath the halo of aD​ street lamAp
I turned my collar to the colDd and daAmp.
When my Deyes were stabbed by the flash
Of the neon lAight that split the nigf#ht,
And touched the soEund of sf#ilence.

f#And in the naked light I sEaw
Ten thousand people maybe f#more.
People talking withoDut speakAing.
People hearing withoDut listeninAg.
People writing soDngs that voices never shaAre
And no one df#are disturb the soEund of sf#ilence

f#"Fools," said I you don't knEow
Silence like a cancer grof#ws.
Hear my words that I mDight teAach you.
Take my arms that I mDight rAeach you.
But my wDords like silent rain-drops feAllf#​
And echoed in the wEells of sf#ilence

f#And the people bowed and pErayed
To the neon God they mf#ade.
And the sign flashed out iDt's warninAg
In the words that it waDs forminAg
And the sign said: "The wDords of the prophets are
Written on the subway wAalls and tenement hf#alls.
And whispered in the sEound of sf#ilence."