Show me the power that man cannot harness To turn toward 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 Or everything under the ever encircling sun. Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this 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'll remember them long after they fade away. And how could they know as they measured the season?
How could they know as they furrowed the soil? All the dishonor 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 Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me this A briar of braun and a forest of sinew Will rise from the power they plowed in the ground And so in this way their dominion continues All under the ever encircling sun going down All under the ever encircling sun going down.