You see him standing by the road
Upon his face, sit dark sunglasses
Patiently he waits, and waits
His cane in hand, while traffic passes
"Can I help you, sir?" you ask
"You can" he smiles, and takes your arm
You step with him into the road
And guide him, keep him safe from harm
You reach the pavement, he lets go
You ask him "will you be OK?"
"I will" he says "I know this town"
He thanks you, then he walks away
His steps are slow, his cane he taps
But patiently he treads the floor.
He knows each bush, each rock, each wall
He's done this many times before.
One night, you're out. It's very late.
You decide to head back home.
But there's been a power cut, it seems.
And so, you start to roam.
But without the light, you find you're lost.
You don't know where you are.
You only get a fleeting glimpse
When there's a passing car.
Your phone is dead. You can't see shit.
A voice: "Are you OK?
Here, take my hand. I know this town.
I'll help you find your way."
His steps are slow, his cane he taps
But still, the man becomes your sight.
He knows each bush, each rock, each wall
For to him, the dark is just as light.
