“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.

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