Peter Hammill
2 Views
Only fleeting, our residence here
Our passage transitory
Waiting out time in our rented rooms
Rooms with two views

The room that you leave's
Not the same one you entered
While the time that you spent in-betweens
Bedded down with the sheets

Look forward
Don't look back
Have no regrets, dear
Behind you clouds are black
But look, the skies ahead are clear