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.