THE SOUND 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 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.
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 share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that 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 made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.”
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence.
LEAVES THAT ARE GREEN
I was twenty-one years
When I wrote this song
I’m twenty-two now
But I won’t be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripple run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
That’s all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
BLESSED
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit
Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows
Blessed are the sat upon
Spat upon, ratted on
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I got no place to go
I’ve walked around Soho for the last night or so
Ah, but it doesn’t matter, no
Blessed is the land and the kingdom
Blessed is the man whose soul belongs to
Blessed are the meth drinkers
Pot sellers, illusion dwellers
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
My words trickle down from a wound
That I have no intention to heal
Blessed are the stained glass
Window pane glass
Blessed is the church service
Makes me nervous
Blessed are the penny rookers
Cheap hookers, groovy lookers
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I have tended my own garden
Much too long
KATHY’S SONG
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls
And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets
To England where my heart lies
My mind’s distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you’re asleep
Kiss you when you start your day
And the song I was writing, is left undone
I don’t know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can’t believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme
And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you
And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you, go I
SOMEWHERE THEY CAN’T FIND ME
I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love
As she lies here beside me, asleep with the night
And her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow
Reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I'll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
Oh baby, you don’t know what I’ve done
I've committed a crime, I’ve broken the law
While you were here sleeping and just dreaming of me
I held up and robbed a liquor store
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I’ll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
Oh my life seems unreal, my crime an illusion
A scene badly written in which I must play
And though it puts me uptight to leave you
I know it’s not right to leave you
The morning is just a few hours away
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I’ll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
ANJI
[tema instrumental]
RICHARD CORY
They say that Richard Cory
Owns one half of this whole town
With political connections
To spread his wealth around
Born into society
A banker’s only child
He had everything a man could want:
Power, grace, and style
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
The papers print his picture
Almost everywhere he goes
Richard Cory at the opera
Richard Cory at a show
And the rumor of his parties
And the orgies on his yacht!
Oh he surely must be happy
With everything he's got
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
He freely gave to charity
He had the common touch
And they were grateful for his patronage
And they thanked him very much
So my mind was filled with wonder
When the evening headlines read:
“Richard Cory went home last night
And put a bullet through his head”
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
A MOST PECULIAR MAN
He was a most peculiar man
That’s what Mrs. Riordan says and she should know
She lived upstairs from him
She said he was a most peculiar man
He was a most peculiar man
He lived all alone within a house
Within a room, within himself
A most peculiar man
He had no friends, he seldom spoke
And no one in turn ever spoke to him
‘Cause he wasn’t friendly and he didn’t care
And he wasn’t like them
Oh no! He was a most peculiar man
He died last Saturday
He turned on the gas and he went to sleep
With the windows closed so he’d never wake up
To his silent world and his tiny room
And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere
Who should be notified soon?
And all the people said
“What a shame that he's dead
But wasn’t he a most peculiar man?”
APRIL COME SHE WILL
April come she will,
When streams are ripe and swell with rain.
May she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June she’ll change her tune,
In restless walks she’ll prowl the night.
July she will fly,
And give no warning to her flight.
August die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.
September I’ll remember,
A love once new has now grown old.
WE’VE GOT A GROOVY THING GOIN’
Bad news, bad news!
I heard you’re packing to leave
I come a-running right over
I just couldn’t believe it
I just couldn’t believe it
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you’re kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
I never done you no wrong
I never hit you when you're down
I always gave you good loving
I never ran around
I never ran around
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you're kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
There’s something you ought to know
If you’re fixing to go
I can’t make it without you
No no no no, no no
No no, no no no no no
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you’re kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
We’ve got a groovy thing goin', baby
We've got a groovy thing
I AM A ROCK
A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On (a) freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
Don’t talk of love,
But I’ve heard the words before;
It’s sleeping in my memory.
I won’t disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.
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 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.
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 share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that 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 made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.”
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence.
LEAVES THAT ARE GREEN
I was twenty-one years
When I wrote this song
I’m twenty-two now
But I won’t be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripple run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
That’s all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand
BLESSED
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit
Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows
Blessed are the sat upon
Spat upon, ratted on
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I got no place to go
I’ve walked around Soho for the last night or so
Ah, but it doesn’t matter, no
Blessed is the land and the kingdom
Blessed is the man whose soul belongs to
Blessed are the meth drinkers
Pot sellers, illusion dwellers
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
My words trickle down from a wound
That I have no intention to heal
Blessed are the stained glass
Window pane glass
Blessed is the church service
Makes me nervous
Blessed are the penny rookers
Cheap hookers, groovy lookers
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I have tended my own garden
Much too long
KATHY’S SONG
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls
And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets
To England where my heart lies
My mind’s distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you’re asleep
Kiss you when you start your day
And the song I was writing, is left undone
I don’t know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can’t believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme
And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you
And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you, go I
SOMEWHERE THEY CAN’T FIND ME
I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love
As she lies here beside me, asleep with the night
And her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow
Reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I'll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
Oh baby, you don’t know what I’ve done
I've committed a crime, I’ve broken the law
While you were here sleeping and just dreaming of me
I held up and robbed a liquor store
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I’ll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
Oh my life seems unreal, my crime an illusion
A scene badly written in which I must play
And though it puts me uptight to leave you
I know it’s not right to leave you
The morning is just a few hours away
But I’ve got to creep down the alley way
Fly down the highway
Before they come to catch me I’ll be gone
Somewhere they can’t find me
ANJI
[tema instrumental]
RICHARD CORY
They say that Richard Cory
Owns one half of this whole town
With political connections
To spread his wealth around
Born into society
A banker’s only child
He had everything a man could want:
Power, grace, and style
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
The papers print his picture
Almost everywhere he goes
Richard Cory at the opera
Richard Cory at a show
And the rumor of his parties
And the orgies on his yacht!
Oh he surely must be happy
With everything he's got
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
He freely gave to charity
He had the common touch
And they were grateful for his patronage
And they thanked him very much
So my mind was filled with wonder
When the evening headlines read:
“Richard Cory went home last night
And put a bullet through his head”
But I, I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Oh I wish that I could be
Richard Cory
A MOST PECULIAR MAN
He was a most peculiar man
That’s what Mrs. Riordan says and she should know
She lived upstairs from him
She said he was a most peculiar man
He was a most peculiar man
He lived all alone within a house
Within a room, within himself
A most peculiar man
He had no friends, he seldom spoke
And no one in turn ever spoke to him
‘Cause he wasn’t friendly and he didn’t care
And he wasn’t like them
Oh no! He was a most peculiar man
He died last Saturday
He turned on the gas and he went to sleep
With the windows closed so he’d never wake up
To his silent world and his tiny room
And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere
Who should be notified soon?
And all the people said
“What a shame that he's dead
But wasn’t he a most peculiar man?”
APRIL COME SHE WILL
April come she will,
When streams are ripe and swell with rain.
May she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June she’ll change her tune,
In restless walks she’ll prowl the night.
July she will fly,
And give no warning to her flight.
August die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.
September I’ll remember,
A love once new has now grown old.
WE’VE GOT A GROOVY THING GOIN’
Bad news, bad news!
I heard you’re packing to leave
I come a-running right over
I just couldn’t believe it
I just couldn’t believe it
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you’re kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
I never done you no wrong
I never hit you when you're down
I always gave you good loving
I never ran around
I never ran around
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you're kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
There’s something you ought to know
If you’re fixing to go
I can’t make it without you
No no no no, no no
No no, no no no no no
Oh, baby, baby
You must be out of your mind
Do you know what you’re kicking away?
We’ve got a groovy thing goin’, baby
We’ve got a groovy thing
We’ve got a groovy thing goin', baby
We've got a groovy thing
I AM A ROCK
A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On (a) freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
Don’t talk of love,
But I’ve heard the words before;
It’s sleeping in my memory.
I won’t disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.
na próxima postagem, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary And Thyme, também de 1966.
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