If I held in my hand every grain of sandSince time first began to beStill I could never count, measure the amountOf all the things you are to meIf I could paint the sky, hang it out to dryI would want the skyTo beOh, such a grand designAn everlasting signOf all the things you are to meYou are the sun that comes on summer windsYou are the falling year that autumn bringsYou are the falling year that autumn bringsYou are the wonder and the mysteryIn everything I seeThe things you are to meSometimes I wake at nightAnd suddenly take frightYou might be just fantasyBut when you reach for meAnd once again I seeOf all the things you are to meYou are the sun that comes on summer windsYou are the falling year that autumn bringsYou are the sun that comes on summer windsYou are the wonder and the mysteryIn everything I seeThe things you are to meYou are the sun that comes on summer windsYou are the falling year that autumn bringsAll the things you are to meAll the things you are to meto me