The last two stanzas of Simon & Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence provide more fodder for nonfiction book titles. (For fiction titles see Your Next Book Title.) The juice has clearly gone out of whatever strange fruit Paul Simon was drinking when he wrote the song. Who is Simon’s guru? Please enlighten me, oh higher beings. Here you go, the rest of the song, with titles for the plucking.

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know: A Royal Romance
Silence like a cancer grows: A Blank Book
Hear my words that I might teach you: The Dalai Lama Speaks
Take my arms that I might reach you”: A Dancing With the Stars Parody
But my words, like silent raindrops fell:

Hold it. If your words are silent raindrops, what does that mean? I mean, WTF? You have no impact with your words? I don’t think that’s true, no matter what you say. Words have impact. You’re washed up? Your words make people cry but don’t change them? That is nonsensical. Oh, well, carry on, Paul.
And echoed
In the wells of silence: The Post-Industrial Recession Story

And the people bowed and prayed/
To the neon god they made: The Official Rush Limbaugh Biography
And the sign flashed out its warning: The Highway Patrol Handbook
In the words that it was forming: The Ear, Nose, and Throat Doctor’s Baby Book
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls: The Atheist’s Dilemma
And tenement halls”: A Ghetto Romance
And whispered in the sounds of silence: A Big Bag of Shhh with Your Name on It: The Austin Powers’s Guide to Living

Thank you, Sixties people, for screwing with our consciousness.