A babe is born, a hope for our sorrow if not today then maybe tomorrow But we put him in line and strike his knuckle and bear down upon ‘til creativity buckle On the chance we’ve mistaken and forgotten him God let us instead clear the path where divinity trod Laud him with Love on shoulders pressed high and crown him a name of man in the sky For hope is our savior, our forever-pursuit So may this little one’s labor return us the loot