“Only half an hour now!”
as I sit in rehearsal for the best night going.
12 is a curfew, or maybe it’s being sent back to the start,
For it’s two years in one night &
maybe I’m late to the party.
Happy New Year means being on two separate nights out, right? Wrong
For you bought your last drink, last year;
You haven’t been to the loo since last year either.
Once 12 comes maybe you’ll feel elated,
Start to enjoy being cat-called by drunken bastards, for last year you could’ve
Punched them, but now it’s January so you must love
Being asked to get your tits out.
It’s a waiting game, it’s exhausting,
Everyone sat checking their watches and phones
For the night to end begin.
Two nights in one, a do-over
New year, new me.
But I’m stuck in-between
And I want to leave.