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 sings different tunes,
To all the ones you hear by day,
As though it’s choking on the words,
That we’re all too afraid to say,
And I wonder at the problems,
We’ve tried to melt inside its core,
Whether it’s packed so close to bursting,
That it can’t hold many more,
For how can we see its weakness,
When we’ve not known something so strong,
And if it weeps and we can’t hear it,
Does that mean there’s nothing wrong?