It's ten forty five, 31st December,
And I find myself watching the clock,
With champagne almost gone,
The night full of hope for a better tomorrow,
I find myself thinking about my book,
Hoping to get published,
One day,
we'll see what the editors say.

As the New Year countdown starts,
I find myself watching the clock,
Will I find a brighter tomorrow?
Or just another year of the same,
In that case I've only got myself to blame.