There’s a truth not many know,
About the world while you’re asleep: that the wind slips through your window,
To steal the secrets that you keep.
And if you don’t believe me,
Then you’re welcome to your doubt. But have you never stopped to wonder,
What it’s whispering about?
What else in the world,
Could make the treetops bend and sway,
By the weight of all the words
That no one ever dared to say?
And since it’s while you’re sleeping,
Secrets are easiest to take,
It’s no surprise ones with the deepest,
Are ones kept wide awake. a