This past winter our cheeks were so red,
our hands were so cold and frostbitten.
I don't want to relive it.
I can still feel the wind on the back of my neck,
and it's the same feeling I get,
when I think of last Christmas.
I remember nights, yes I remember nights,
when you could never think to complain.
But it's all died down recently.
Pick yourself up, pick yourself up.
You define the word "lame."
I like to get fucked up with all my friends.
Drink the Champagne; tonight will once again be lame.
What happened to the New Years of yesterday?
New England has gotten just a little stale,
and we're forced to chase it it down woth all of our ginger ale.
Fill up the tub, clothes come undone.
This house is getting out of hand,
and everyone has gone under.
So cheers, this New Years to good health.
Because I hope you're doing ok on your own.
You left me bruised and choked up in alchol.
I can't taste last night's promises,
and they're making me so sick of it all..
..Do you even know what it feels like to lose?
Have you ever felt the pain?
Do you have the scars to prove?
This is where you stuck your knife right through.
Backstabbed, backlash, friendship, bullshit.
I now know how it feels to win.
It's been a year,
it's been a year,
it's been a year,
it's been a year of champagne,
and handshake deals.