The Hand rises out of the Meer;
Spanning the Heim and touching the skies.

I stand by, I watch, I smile.

The Holder hath His will, grim and stark;
Sayeth he: “exeunt thy mark! exeunt thy mark!”

I stand by, I watch, I smile.

The Great Disaster consumes the world;
Arks are built and broken,
Everyone thinks they are elect, yet no one really is chosen.
Cries fill the air, pleas fill the air, blood is spilled on soil;
Artless, guileless creatures bathing, in a broth of toil.

I stand by, I watch, I smile.

End the Disaster, be it done with the world;
A grand celebration a-due, brethren, few have made the run.
The Holder, in His booming voice, tears the clouds and roars:
“Victory naught but fleet o' ships, with loss wrong gone the oars!”

I stand by, I watch, I smile.

The world is now a place a-new, people pulling carts;
Wild becomes intellectual, even the Jen play their part:
Go to the Holder, they say: “Lord, what hath thou wrought?”
The Trident glimmers, cometh the retort: “I have tamed the lout!”

I stand by, I watch, I smile.

Man becomes monster, O, man is one with sin;
Brother slaughters brother, O and, sisters are ravaged by kin.
The Great Disaster under rocks, coils and then unfurls;
Any moment now, aye essence, sprout up and show its pearls.

All the while, as time goes on,
I stand by, I watch, I smile.

All the while, as span becomes mile
I stand by, I watch, I smile.