Pop open a bottle of bubbly¡¦yeah.
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Here¡¯s to another goddamn new year.
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And outside, 2 million drunk Bostonians
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Are getting ready to sing ¡°Auld Lang Sine¡±¡¦out of tune.
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I sit there in my easy chair, looking at the clouds, orange with celebration
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And I wonder if you¡¯re out there.
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Hey! The ice of Boston is muddy
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And reflects no light, in day or night
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And I slip on it every time
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Pop open a third bottle of bubbly
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Yeah, and I take that bottle of champagne
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Go into the kitchen, stand in front of the kitchen window
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And I take all my clothes off, take that bottle of champagne
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And I pour it on my head, feel it cascade through my hair
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And across my chest, and the phone rings.
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And it¡¯s my mother.
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And she says ¡°HI HONEY HOW¡¯S BOSTON?¡±
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And I stand there, all alone on New Year¡¯s Eve
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Buck naked, drenched in champagne, looking at a bunch of strangers
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Uh, looking at them, looking at me, looking at them, and I say:
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¡°Oh, I¡¯m fine Mom?how¡¯s Washington?¡±
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Hey! The ice of Boston is muddy
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And reflects no light, in day or night
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And I slip on it every time
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Hey! The ice of Boston is muddy
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And reflects no light, in day or night
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And I slip on it every time, time, time, time, yeah¡¦
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So I guess the party line is I followed you up here.
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Well, I don¡¯t know about that.
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Mainly because knowing about that would involve knowing some pathetic, ridiculous, and absolutely true things about myself that I¡¯d rather not admit to right now.
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Woke up at 3 A.M. with the radio on, that Gladys Knight and the Pips song on
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About how she¡¯d rather live in his world with him
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Than live in her own world alone
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And I lay there, head spinning, trying to fall asleep
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And I thought to myself: ¡°Oh, Gladys, girl, I love you but, oh?get a life!¡±
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Hey! The ice of Boston is muddy
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And reflects no light, in day or night
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And I slip on it every time
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Hey! The ice of Boston is muddy
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And reflects no light, in day or night
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And I slip on it every time
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The Ice of Boston
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| Dismemberment Plan |