Who will love a little Sparrow
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I", said the swan,
"The entire idea is utterly absurd,
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the
other swans heard."
Who will take pity in his heart,
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I", said the golden wheat,
"I would if I could but I cannot I know,
I need all my grain to prosper and grow."
Who will love a little Sparrow?
Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will", said the earth,
"For all I've created returns unto me,
From dust were ye made and
dust we shall be."
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 dare
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 signs said: "The words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whisper'd in The Sound Of Silence.
Come a runnin' down the stairs, pretty Peggy-o
Come a runnin' down the stairs, pretty Peggy-o
Come a runnin' down the stairs, pullin'
back your yellow hair
You're the prettiest little girl I've ever seen-o
In a carriage you will ride, pretty Peggy-o
In a carriage you will ride, pretty Peggy-o
In a carriage you will ride, with your
true love by your side
As fair as many maiden in the ar-e-o
What will your mother say, pretty Peggy-o
What will your mother say, pretty Peggy-o
What will your mother say, when she
finds you've gone away
To places far and strange, to Faneri-o?
If ever I return, pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return, pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return, all your cities I will burn
Destroying all the ladies in the ar-e-o
Destroying all the ladies in the ar-e-o
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 with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.
I threw a pebble in a brook
And watch the ripples run away
And they never made a sound.
And the Leaves That Are Green turn to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.
Hello, Hello, Hello, Hello,
Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye,
That's all there is.
And the Leaves That Are Green turn to brown.
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
And kiss you when you start your day.
And a 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.
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 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 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 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 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?"
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.
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 word 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 A Rock,
I am an island.
And the rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt:
(On the side of a hill in the deep forest green.)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(Tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground.)
Without no seams nor needle work,
(Blankets and bedclothes the
child of the mountains)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.)
Tell her to find me an acre of land:
(On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves.)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(Washes the grave with silvery tears.)
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun.)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:
(War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions.)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(Generals order their soldiers to kill.)
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
(And to fight for a cause they've
long ago forgotten.)
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Are you going to Scarborough Fair:
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.
Homeward Bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward Bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Every day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me
The movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see
Reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward Bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward Bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward Bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward Bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.
Hello, lamppost, what cha knowing?
I come to watch your flowers growing.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo doo, Feelin' Groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, Feelin' Groovy.
Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with book markers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.
Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And Flowers Never Bend
With The Rainfall.
The mirror on my wall
Casts an image dark and small
But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection.
I am blinded by the light
Of God and truth and right
And I wander in the night without direction.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And Flowers Never Bend
With The Rainfall.
It's no matter if you born
To play the King or pawn
For the line is thinly drawn 'tweeen
joy and sorrow,
So my fantasy
Becomes reality,
And I must be that I must be
and face tomorrow.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And Flowers Never Bend
With The Rainfall.
"Kathy", I said,
As we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh,
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now.
It took me four days
To hitchhike from Saginaw.
I've come to look for Ame____rica."
Laughing on the bus,
Playing games with the faces,
She said the man in the gabardine suit
Was a spy.
I said, "Be careful,
His bow tie is really a camera."
"Toss me a cigarette,
I think there's one in my raincoat."
"We smoked the last one
An hour ago."
So I looked at the scenery,
She read her magazine;
And the moon rose over an o___pen field.
"Kathy, I'm lost", I said,
Though I knew she was sleeping.
"I'm empty and aching and
I don't know why."
Counting the cars
On the New Jersey Turnpike.
They've all come
To look for Ame____rica,
All come to look for Ame____rica,
All come to look for Ame____rica.
We'd like to know
A little bit about you
For our files.
We'd like to help you learn
To help yourself.
Look around you. All you see
Are sympathetic eyes.
Stroll around the grounds
Until you feel at home.
And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know
Wo wo wo.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson,
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
Hey hey hey, hey hey hey.
Hide it in a hiding place
Where no one ever goes.
Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes.
It's a little secret,
Just the Robinsons' affair.
Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids.
Coo coo ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know
Wo wo wo.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson,
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
Hey hey hey, hey hey hey.
Sitting on a sofa
On a Sunday afternoon,
Going to the candidates' debate,
Laugh about it,
Shout about it,
When you've got to choose,
Every way you look at it you lose.
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you
Ooo ooo ooo.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson?
Joltin' Joe has left and gone away
Hey hey hey, hey hey hey.
When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
When darkness comes
And pain is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If you need a friend,
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Away, I'd rather sail away
Like a swan that's here and gone.
A man gets tied up to the ground,
He gives the world
Its saddest sound.
Its saddest sound.
I'd rather be a forest than a street.
Yes I would.
If I could,
I surely would.
I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet.
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would.
Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia
Up in my bedroom (making love),
I got up to wash my face
When I come back to bed,
Someone's taken my place.
Celia, you're breaking my heart,
You're shaking my confidence daily.
Oh, Cecilia, I'm down on my knees,
I'm begging you please to come home.
Come on home.
Poh poh poh...
¦: Jubilation,
She loves me again,
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing.:¦
Oh oh oh ...
When I left my home and my family,
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station,
Running scared,
Laying low,
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go,
Looking for the places
Only they would know.
Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie la lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie la la la la lie-la la la la lie.
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job,
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores
On Seventh Avenue
I do declare,
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.
Lie la lie ...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone,
Going home
Where the New York City winters
Aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.
In the clearing stands a boxer,
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame,
"I am leaving, I am leaving."
But the fighter still remains.
Lie la lie ...
There goes my baby
With someone new
She sure looks happy
I sure am blue
She was my baby
Till he stepped in
Goodbye the romance
That might have been
Bye bye love...
I'm through with romance
I'm through with love
I'm through with counting
The stars above
And here's the reason
That I'm so free
My loving baby
Is through with me
Bye bye love...