Tired, tired, burning bright
In the stress of holinight;
Do all people on holiday
Stress [, wandering, that much
On] what to wear, what to say?

Our brother is a mystery of life,
A candle of fire, mischief and wonder;
Our brother's gifts are strife,
A string of light, chocolate all white,
Rainbow of maltese, milk, what yonder?

As daily things all walk away,
The good, the bad, the ugly,
Deserted we are on holiday,
Amidst enigmas snugly.

We do not know when to stop and think,
Time flies faster, speeding as we blink,
Too many questions go unexplored,
And yet somehow mostly we are bored.