26 January 2013
There once were things called 'secrets', And everyone had their own, That little bit of them was dark, And in its right: alone.
Remember those things called 'secrets', You wouldn't tell a soul, Having a secret: one or two, Was enough to make you whole.
A myth, we reckon, 'secrets', A died-out point of view, That secrecy has long since died, It's never something new.
There's a fear concerning 'secrets', Tell one, you'll tell them all, Just let it slip to one 'true friend', And oh, so quick you'll fall.
'Secrets'. • Opuss № I