The Passing Of The Year

My glass is filled, my pipe is lit,
     My den is all a cosy glow;
And snug before the fire I sit,
     And wait to feel the old year go.
I dedicate to solemn thought
     Amid my too-unthinking days,
This sober moment, sadly fraught
     With much of blame, with little praise.

Old Year! upon the Stage of Time
     You stand to bow your last adieu;
A moment, and the prompter’s chime
     Will ring the curtain down on you.
Your mien is sad, your step is slow;
     You falter as a Sage in pain;
Yet turn, Old Year, before you go,
     And face your audience again.

That sphinx-like face, remote, austere,
     Let us all read, whate’er the cost:
O Maiden! why that bitter tear?
     Is it for dear one you have lost?
Is it for fond illusion gone?
     For trusted lover proved untrue?
O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan
     What hath the Old Year meant to you?

And you, O neighbour on my right
     So sleek, so prosperously clad!
What see you in that aged wight
     That makes your smile so gay and glad?
What opportunity unmissed?
     What golden gain, what pride of place?
What splendid hope? O Optimist!
     What read you in that withered face?

And You, deep shrinking in the gloom,
     What find you in that filmy gaze?
What menace of a tragic doom?
     What dark, condemning yesterdays?
What urge to crime, what evil done?
     What cold, confronting shape of fear?
O haggard, haunted, hidden One
     What see you in the dying year?

And so from face to face I flit,
     The countless eyes that stare and stare;
Some are with approbation lit,
     And some are shadowed with despair.
Some show a smile and some a frown;
     Some joy and hope, some pain and woe:
Enough! Oh, ring the curtain down!
     Old weary year! it’s time to go.

My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
     My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
     And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
     For we’ve been comrades, you and I –
I thank God for each day of you;
     There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!

  — Robert W. Service (1874 - 1958), English Poet.

ALKALINE TRIO - WE’VE HAD ENOUGH

In the shadows where the heads hang low
You hear voices as the wind blows, asking “can’t you see?”
Reminding you to breathe
It’s only time before it catches up to you and all your broken luck
I found a better way to get even with my memory

That said, we’ve had enough
Please turn that fucking radio off
Ain’t nothing on the air waving the despair we feel
NO!

In the darkness where the angels cry
Give us water, give us back our eyes
Our bed’s this concrete floor, and it’s all we have left to live for
A day we’ll never face
We’re only second-handed, sick and lonely
Fighting back the tears and every urge to Van Gogh both our ears

That said, we’ve had enough
Please turn that fucking radio off
Ain’t nothing on the air waving the despair we feel
That said, we’ve had enough
Put “Walk Among Us” on and turn it up
Ain’t nothing on the air waving the hatred we feel
NO!

In the shadows where the heads hang low
You hear voices as the wind blows, asking “can’t you see?”
Reminding you to breathe
It’s only time before it catches up to you and all your broken luck
I found a better way to get even with my enemies

That said, we’ve had enough
Please turn that fucking radio off
Ain’t nothing on the air waving the despair we feel
That said, we’ve had enough
Put “Walk Among Us” on and turn it up
Ain’t nothing on the air waving the hatred we feel
NO!

This is our biggest fear
The only tunes that we hear
Come via antenna through your car raid-ee-uh-oh-oh-no

That said, we’ve had enough, we’ve had enough!
That said, we’ve had enough, we’ve had enough!

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’

  — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), American Poet.