I’ve come to play with you again
Because a first round series creeping
Left its seeds while off-season weeping
And the nightmare that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I skate alone
Narrow hopes of game 7 at home
’Neath the halo of a goal lamp
My neck guard I don’t wear for some stupid reason turns cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of Saturday night lights
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And from the naked ice I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People cheering without speaking
People jeering without listening
People singing songs that arenas always share
No one dared
Hope for victory to stall the 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 chambers of twitter
And the people bowed and prayed
To the paywalled gods 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 arena walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the rink of silence.