Thinking 'bout the new year

All the dirt it'll attract

Chipped apart the last one

Glad to see it done

I want days so perfect

Perfect in ways I'll never see

Wearing the headframes

Trim and pure, bury me

Counting up your blessings

Think of all the things we lack

Counting down to zero

Then you'll never get it back

A lot of heads need breaking

But I know that thought is wrong

Things might turn against me

Then again, I'd do the same

One foot on the platform

One foot on the train