My Old Moore`s Almanac

To forsee where you should be
After your great Christmas spree
Old days stagger tied with down with bows
A new page will shortly be exposed
 
To turn the mirror back to front
Hold the drain of needs and wants
For self deciet in promise to invest  
And good intentions so expressed
 
Hold that belief that you could change
The Leopards spots would still remain
And will power slowly ebbing down the drain
Convictions eaten by life's fast pace
 
The ashes of a year just past
Decline like Marleys ghost did manifest
A haunt that you must change your act
Add and not subtract, a new years pact
 
That golden future cut out to save
Tarnished, too hard to achieve
Packed away on the twelth night
In the box where New Years Resolutions hide
 
Good intentions like a Hanukkuh so bright
Saw that shalom its oils soon dried
A drummer that lead the expectations march
To fail even before you start

The gypsy read her crystal orb
And just to see no future drawn