It's New Year's Day, the new calendar's torn
When I hung it last night while I was drunk
It's January, shows pictures of London
It's places to visit before you slump
To the floor, dead. Costa Rica's next month
That's s'posed to be a great place to head to
Got Morocco and Edinburgh stuck
With pins in my mental map of the new
Year's confirmed trips, but there might be more, too
Let's hope so. Though this year's only just born
I feel real momentum, I feel the funk
Things are coalescing, strands turn into
A united whole, garment to be worn
It's called happiness, purpose, fear has sunk
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