Show me the power that man cannot harness
To turn towards malice or work into woe
Be it the stars or the moon or the planets
Or the tide of the ocean in ever-encircling flow
Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this
Who were the ones who first gathered the amber
To render the embering dawn of the day
The stallion in canter, the river in meander
So we'd remember them long after they fade away?
And how could they know as they measured the seasons?
How could they know as they furrowed the soil?
Of all the dishonour and all the unreason
And all of the wrong to be done in the name of their toil?
Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this
A briar of brawn and a forest of sinews
Will rise from the power they ploughed in the ground
And so in this way their dominion continues
Under the ever-encircling sun going down