The night dancers stamp upon the hours
You on the balcony and afraid of heights
Feel the ground tremble like grandma’s hand
And watch their flat arses clean the plate glass doors
It is then the bombs go off behind you
The Nott’d black sea covered in red blue berries,
White dandelions and purple anemones that the tide
Gobbles up again so quickly, so completely
& the New Year bursts like a baby upon its banks
The party, 50 or more, adorn it with a crown
Back inside the clean doors, smiles hover like moons
Striking the box, the cheap wine pours forth and
The edge comes off the evening, a pointy hat is placed
Upon your head and you move to the corner of the room
To stamp upon the hours and all the other old you's
