| Set your wooden horses to roam
|
| In the dust, come galloping home
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| Ah, into the grave, sooner or late
|
| You’ll be led like a child by the hidden hand of fate
|
| Oh, the silver hearse is in wait
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| And she revs outside of the gate
|
| Ah, sooner or late, sooner or late
|
| To be snuffed like a flame by the hidden hand of fate
|
| Set your nuclear rockets to aim
|
| When you mingle riches and faith
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| The rules of the game, sooner or late
|
| Set you’re fields of poppies aflame
|
| In your one God’s heavenly name
|
| Ah, sooner or late, sooner or late
|
| You’ll be plucked like a fig by the hidden hand of fate
|
| Set your wooden horses to roam
|
| In the dust come galloping home
|
| Ah, into the grave, sooner or late
|
| You’ll be led like a child by the hidden hand of fate
|
| You’ll be led like a child by the hidden hand of fate
|
| You’ll be snuffed like a flame by the hidden hand of fate
|
| Plucked like a fig by the hidden hand of fate
|
| By the hidden hand of fate, ah, ooh by the hidden hand of fate
|
| Ah, ooh by the hidden hand of fate |