Creative Minority

Hello ACORN, my old friend
I cannot talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Of hidden cameras that went peeping
from a story the press could not contain
cannot remain
Within the sound of silence

In Martha’s Vineyard I walked alone
‘Til Teddy’s funeral I had flown
And his story I did revamp
‘Cause He drove his car into the cold and damp
But his death may yet help my healthcare plight
And split the right
And keep the sound of silence

And in the DC Mall I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
Racists talking without speaking
Haters hating without hating
People writing stories that networks never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Freedom like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Another speech just might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

But the media bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the polls flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The seeds of the defeat are marching on the national mall
And those town halls”
And proven in the sounds of silence