To this day the old tale is still told
In the land of the Marsh, theft by dykes of roaring seas
About a boy, greatest master to become
Superstition or truth, known as rider of his horse
Pale white horse

He watched the tide attack the dyke scars with full might
He knew they could not stand much longer
Improvements would prevent the drowning of the land
If only they believed that boy

The master he'll succeed, create what's never done
His legacy should last for ages
Distrust against him, fear of what he has become
Knowledge that scares ignorant minds

One, one with his wife, he grew to live a pleasant life
A horse' mortal remains, they disappeared in moonlit nights

The tale of the dykemaster remains
When you spot his figure down by the sea
Dark cloaked foreseer he's always been
The rider on the pale white horse

Enclosed by his new dyke a new koog lays in bloom
But there's decay left in the elder one
In fevered mind ignored his inner voice's truth
A raging sea prepares its fatal strike

Storm, rain, raving sea, deluge to devour beast and men
A horse mortal remains, beside him revived this moonlit night

The tale of the dykemaster remains
When you spot his figure down by the sea
Dark cloaked foreseer he's always been
The rider on the pale white horse

The moon shone from the height, but down on the dyke was no more life
One more prick of the spurs, a rushing stream took him with the tide

The tale of the dykemaster remains
When you spot his figure down by the sea
Dark cloaked foreseer he's always been
The rider

The tale of the dykemaster remains
When you spot his figure down by the sea
Dark cloaked foreseer he's always been
The rider on the pale white horse​

To this day the old tale is still told
When a storm threatens the land and the sea rises wild
By moonlit nights he's still riding his horse
Taking care of his dyke, that he left for us all
For us all
For us all