We gather round in tiny flats, We drink until we flop, The countdown starts, the wish comes out, The resolutions drop.
Take Brenda there, from number 8, She always says the same, “I’ll lose some weight, I’ll exercise” The body changing game.
Now Lewis starts, from down the road, “No more fags for me, I swear!” He’ll do a week, or maybe two, Until a ciggy’s going spare.
“I rarely see my family now, An effort’s what I’ll make” Bob will only last three months, He’s always been a flake.
Some people want to start anew, Find an instrument to play, Some want to spend less on themselves, But everyone will stray.
They turn to me and ask “Well Luce, What will you do this year?” But I don’t care what this year brings, If I can have you near.