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
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.