Lighting up the stage with praise,
The room is wash in chromatic glows,
For all the praise and flashing lights,
We behold Him there our first delight.

A sleepyleb lounges,
Enchanted by the prospect of no more commutes,
And much less muchness.

The daily clamour is a racket three times more than not,
Its a great dance and parade,
Great fun and great games.

Nevertheless, after work comes great rest,
And after rest great fun.
It's the natural rhythm of things.