Simon & Garfunkel - The Dangling Conversation (1966)
It’s a still life water color, Of a now late afternoon, As the sun shines through the curtained lace And shadows wash the room. And we sit and drink our coffee Couched in our indifference, Like shells upon the shore You can hear the ocean roar In the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs, The borders of our lives.
And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost, And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what we’ve lost. Like a poem poorly written We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme, In syncopated time Lost in 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.
"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 a rock, I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries.”