On New Year’s Day we stop and think
Of how the year gone by did stink,
And what the new year holds in store–
Most likely, it will stink some more.
And then we’ll want to list a heap
Of resolutions we won’t keep:
“I’ll swear off smokes”; “I’ll exercise”;
And other such pathetic lies.
And when the cursèd day is done,
There’s no escape, no respite won.
We merely slink back off to work,
Where daily mundane horrors lurk.
So some on New Year’s Eve think’t best,
Instead of getting needed rest,
To stay up late and party down,
And in a bottle sorrows drown.
But alas! alack! oh snap!
That seeming comfort’s but a trap.
For drunken revels one must pay
With barf and headache New Year’s Day.
So suck it up; accept your lot–
There’s nothing will avail you aught.
And though life sucks, I wish you cheer:
Have a not-too-awful year!