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Listening To The Moon
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Late last night,
I saw the moon moving her lips...
I heard a faint whisper, but
couldn't quite tell what she said—
my hands were cupped behind my ears,
and I stood on tiptoe,
listening to the moon...
I was listening to the moon.
Tonight I'm going to climb up on my roof,
and listen even harder—
the moon knows many secrets, and
I hope she'll reveal one to me:
why do people kill each other,
when we already die too soon?
Listening to the moon...
I'll be listening to the moon.
Late last night,
I noticed the moon moving her lips...
she knows lots of secrets—
maybe she'll tell one to me:
why do we keep killing each other,
when we already die way too soon?
Listening to the moon...
listening to the moon...
I'll be listening to the moon
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