Hel lo dark ness, my old (Dm)friend,

I’ve come to talk to you a (Dm)gain,

be cause a vi sion soft ly (Bb)creep

(F)ing,

left its seeds while I was (Bb)sleep

(F)ing.

And the (Bb)vi sion

that was plant ed in my (F)brain

still re (Dm)mains

with in the (C)sound

of (Dm)si lence.

In rest less dreams I walked a (C)lone;

ten nar row streets of cob ble (Dm)stone,

’neath the ha lo of a (F)street lamp,

I turned my col lar to the (F)cold and damp,

when my (Bb)eyes were stabbed by the flash of a ne on (F)light

that split the (Dm)night

and touched the (C)sound

of (Dm)si lence.

And in the na ked light I (C)saw

ten thou sand peo ple, may be (Dm)more.

Peo ple talk ing with out (F)speak ing,

I peo ple hear ing with out (F)lis ten ing,

peo ple (Bb)writ ing songs by that voic es a nev er (F)share,

and no one (Dm)dare

dis turb the (C)sound

of (Dm)si lence.

“Fools!” said I, “You do not (C)know

si lence like a can cer (Dm)grows.

Hear my words that I might (F)teach you.

Take my arms that I might (F)reach you.”

But my (Bb)words

like si lent rain drops (F)fell,

and (F)ech oed

in the (C)wells

of (Dm)si lence.

And the peo ple bowed and (C)prayed

to the ne on god they (Dm)made.

And the sign flashed out its (Bb)warn (F)ing

in the words that it was (Bb)form (F)ing.

And the sign said, the (Bb)words of the proph ets are (C)writ ten on the sub way (F)walls

and ten e ment (Dm)halls,

and (F)whis per’d

in the (C)sounds

of (Dm)si lence,

and (F)whis per’d

in the (C)sounds

of si lence.