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Beau

Death of an Old Year

It's the depth of the winter and out of the darkness
The neon tube flashes, a sliver to splinter
An eye that is streaming that snow has blown into
And melted, slowly melted clear away.

It's the last of December, a night of no reason,
For friends who look forward and friends who remember.
The fire once that flared is now but an ember
The snow falls – oh, the snow falls down upon.

And some of us wander the valley of shadows
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In fervour and faith and with rifles to hand;
And as yesterday's hero lies deep in the sand
Of the old year, so I peer from the train...

It's the death of an old year as I leave the station
To face the arena, to stand on my own here
Erupting in fire. And over the wire
I'm flying – as I'm dying, like my bullets in the snow.