Hidden Hand - Grant-Lee Phillips

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

Oh, the silver hearse is in wait

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

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