It’s hard to see what’s coming with the sun in your eyes.
It falls like rain upon you from a clear blue sky
And just as you find your feet and you measure out your stride
A fork in the road takes you by surprise.

Well, I didn’t know her name and she never questioned mine.
Just two strangers, pilgrims with kindred minds.
We came from different places, heading different ways,
But we fell in step together for the shortest of times.

And it’s all in how you look at it, and it changes,
Changes with the angle of the light,
And all that seems so real by light of day
Vanishes in the darkness of night.

The day stretched out before us like the path beneath our feet.
It seemed for all the world that time was on our side.
She’d never seen a sky so wide as to touch the earth.
All of her walls held it out of sight.

We found berries in the brambles and blossoms in the briars,
Discovered secrets hidden in each other’s lies.
And all I’d come to take for granted, I learned to question
By looking through another’s eyes.

Because it’s all in how you look at it, and it changes,
Changes with the angle of the light,
And all that seems so real by light of day
Vanishes in the darkness of night.

The sun it cast our shadows far along the path ahead.
They came back to meet and pass us by as the day grew old.
We held to every moment, hoping against hope
Our paths weren’t parted by a fork in the road.

She said: ‘I’ve known you such a short time, but it feels like half my life –
As though I’ve never know any other way.
We could make this day a lifetime if we stop here.
We could keep the horizon at bay.

‘Because it’s all in how we look at it, and it changes,
Changes with the angle of the light,
And all that seemed a dream by light of day
Becomes so real in the darkness of night.’

(I see more clearly in the dark the way we’re heading
Yet still I lose my way.
If I could see her eyes, I might feel different –
I might believe myself awake)

Dawn through slatted shutters threw lines upon the bed
And on the lines she’d written and left by my sleeping head.
I don’t need to read them, I’ll head on my way.
I know exactly what they’ll say:

That ‘It’s all in how you look at it, but it changes,
Changes with the angle of the light,
And all that seems so real by light of day
Becomes impossible in the night.

‘I see more clearly in the dark the way we’re heading
And I’m afraid I’ll lose my way.
If I could see your eyes, I might feel different,
But pilgrims cannot stay.’

Yeah, it’s hard to see what’s coming with the sun in your eyes.
It falls like rain upon you from a clear blue sky.