trooscum:

Hello darkness, my old friend,

I’ve come to talk with you again,

Because a vision softly creeping,

Left its seed while I was sleeping,

And the vision, that was planted in my brain,

Still remains, with 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.