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.
Finns det något deppigare än att sitta själv klockan tjugo i fem en onsdagsnatt och lyssna på världens deppigaste/bästa låt?
"Jag ska sjutsa tjejerna med dom stora grejerna *hormonstint tonårsbröl*"
Nu blev visst inte musik lite deppig (eller seriös). Att rock till Heman hunters är underskattat.
