Pop open a bottle of bubbly…yeah. 

Here's to another goddamn new year. 

And outside, 2 million drunk Bostonians 

Are getting ready to sing “Auld Lang Sine”…out of tune. 

I sit there in my easy chair, looking at the clouds, orange with celebration 

And I wonder if you're out there. 

Hey!  The ice of Boston is muddy 

And reflects no light, in day or night 

And I slip on it every time 

Pop open a third bottle of bubbly 

Yeah, and I take that bottle of champagne 

Go into the kitchen, stand in front of the kitchen window 

And I take all my clothes off, take that bottle of champagne 

And I pour it on my head, feel it cascade through my hair 

And across my chest, and the phone rings. 

And it's my mother. 

And she says “HI HONEY HOW'S BOSTON?” 

And I stand there, all alone on New Year's Eve 

Buck naked, drenched in champagne, looking at a bunch of strangers 

Uh, looking at them, looking at me, looking at them, and I say: 

“Oh, I'm fine Mom—how's Washington?” 

Hey!  The ice of Boston is muddy 

And reflects no light, in day or night 

And I slip on it every time 

Hey!  The ice of Boston is muddy 

And reflects no light, in day or night 

And I slip on it every time, time, time, time, yeah… 

So I guess the party line is I followed you up here. 

Well, I don't know about that. 

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. 

Woke up at 3 A.M. with the radio on, that Gladys Knight and the Pips song on 

About how she'd rather live in his world with him 

Than live in her own world alone 

And I lay there, head spinning, trying to fall asleep 

And I thought to myself: “Oh, Gladys, girl, I love you but, oh—get a life!” 

Hey!  The ice of Boston is muddy 

And reflects no light, in day or night 

And I slip on it every time 

Hey!  The ice of Boston is muddy 

And reflects no light, in day or night 

And I slip on it every time