If you go outside at night,
After the world has gone to sleep.
You can hear the planet sigh,
Under the secrets it can't keep.
And the wind sighs different tunes,
To all the cause you hear by day.
As though it's choking at the words,
That we're all too afraid to say.
And i wonder at the problems,
That we tried to melt inside it's core.
Whether it's packed so close to burning,
That it can't hold many more.
For how we can see it's weak now.
When we've not know something no strength,
And if it weeps and we can't hear it.
Does that mean there's nothing wrong?