You kiss the golden hand of time that steals your living grace
As it softly knocks upon your bolted door
Transparent through the eyes that look back into your own
Smiling, as they know what he has come here for

Behold the vision in the vessel worshiped by the grace
As it quickly secures the face of glowing youth
Bountifully replenishing what the hand of time has stolen
Yet taking more than it gives to you

You sell your soul to kneel before the vision in the vessel
To kiss the very hand that stole your grace
Never taking sight of the wisdom, you have gathered
In each line, time has etched upon your face

You can clasp the golden hand of time tightly in your own
Proudly wear the lines of wisdom on your face
Without giving up your soul to the vision in the vessel
If you do not kiss the hand that stole your grace