The Riddle

By Nik Kershaw

I got two strong arms, blessings of Babylon
With time to carry on and try, for sins and false alarms
So to America the brave,

Wise men save

Near a tree by a river, there's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran, goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon in the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion, there's a wrong and a right

But he'll never, never fight over you

I got plans for us, nights in the scullery
And days instead of me, I only know what to discuss
Of for anything but light

Wise men fighting over you

It's not me you see
Pieces of valentine
With just a song of mine to keep from burning history
seasons of gasoline and gold

Wise men fold

Near a tree by a river, there's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran, goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon in the veil of the night

For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
But he'll never, never fight over you

I got time to kill
sly looks in corridors
Without a plan of yours
A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild, wise men's child.

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