Prelude Maná

There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're going
Or which way the wind is blowing

Is it raining, is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing

Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Oh, the fires of hell are glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing?

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing
Stop the boat