"Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule." - J.J.R. Tolkien's Gandalf the White (The Return of the King, Chapter 9: "The Last Debate") ------------------------ [Verse 1] I tried to drink the rising tide, I tried to chain the wind, I watched the centuries divide where every era thinned. The weight of time was on my chest, a sky too vast to hold, I thought I had to save the world before the sun grew cold. But the horizon never ends, and the oceans never sleep, And a single pair of human hands can’t plug the roaring deep. [Pre-Chorus] A whisper came from underneath the ash and bitter clay: "You cannot steer the coming storm. But you can clear today." [Chorus] So lay your shoulder to the stone within the field you know! We cannot reap the ages sown, nor stop the undertow. We only bleed to break the root, to pull the blinding weed, To leave a quiet, breathing earth for tomorrow's fragile seed. It is not ours to tame the sea, or rule the shifting sand - We just must leave our patch of dirt, clean for another's hand. [Verse 2] My palms are torn upon the briar of malice grown too deep, But I‘ll dig out the poisoned fruit before I go to sleep. I will not fight the ancient ghosts, or write the final page, I only have this broken earth, and this specific age. Let the grand illusions die, let the emperors be gone, I am pulling up the rotting wood so the grass can carry on. [Pre-Chorus] I cannot shield the ones to come from the lightning or the grey... "You cannot steer the coming storm. But you can clear today." [Chorus] So lay your shoulder to the stone within the field you know! We cannot reap the ages sown, nor stop the undertow. We only bleed to break the root, to pull the blinding weed, To leave a quiet, breathing earth for tomorrow's fragile seed. It is not ours to tame the sea, or rule the shifting sand - We just must leave our patch of dirt, clean for another's hand! [Bridge] And when our bones are in the dust, and a hundred years are born, A child will stand where we stood once, and face the coming morn! What weather they shall have to brave is not for us to say! The blackened clouds, the blinding grace, the turning of each day! We give them dirt without our curse! We give them soil unchained! We cannot fix the universe... But we leave our field unprofaned. [Outro] Clean earth to till. Clean earth to till. I lay down my iron. I step off the hill. Whatever skies may break above... I did my time. I gave my love. Clean earth to till. Clean earth to till. © Silicon Sessions 2026 All Rights Reserved
