You may find it rather crude
That every city new year
We toss rounds in to the air
With such an attitude
Without the slightest bit of care

"Ring in the new year with a bell!"
Said the hopeful old Councilman
But every city new year
We toss promises in to the air
With such an attitude
Without the slighest bit of care

Too fat
Too poor
Too ugly
Unsure
We attack ourselves without mercy
Want this
Want that
Got to have that
For sure
All the rooms crowded except for the doors
In case of a man-made emergency

Three-hundred and sixty-four
We sit on what we'd said before
Together we pull out our chest
and add to it even more
Our resolution to be better people
Change who we were in to what we
hope would be the the final solution
In the mix