is a time of little time.
How we get there is a mystery.
Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb
into fields of sunlit harmony.
How we get there is a mystery.
Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb
into fields of sunlit harmony.
Shopping, cooking, clearing walks and yards,
trimming house and tree while working, too;
making phone calls, wrapping, writing cards,
as all worn out we do what we must do
so that this day of joy might joy renew
