If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
As time goes by, I realize that I do trust the wind. And I often write my songs for myself.
Some secrets are meant to be taken to the grave, and that's what I plan on doing with all mine. They're not necessarily my secrets to tell. I'm the gatekeeper of other people's secrets.
Sometimes it's best to speak from ignorance: that way, you can see the wood without being distracted by the trees.
You can't be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.
The real secrets are not the ones I tell.
I guess secrets are part of the fabric of everybody's lives. I mean everybody's lives, and guilt is part of the fabric of everybody's lives.
Who am I to blow against the wind?
I'm not good at keeping secrets.
The only secrets are the secrets that keep themselves.
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