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
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