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- well, 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 a rock feels no pain and an island never cries.
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It was a time of innocence, a time of confidences. Long ago it must be, I have a photograph, preserve your memory.
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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 whispered in the sound of silence
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Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon. Going to the candidate's debate. Laugh about it, shout about it - when you've got to choose; Every way you look at this you lose...
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