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Pop open a bottle of bubblyââ¬Â¦yeah. Hereââ¬â¢s to another goddamn new year. And outside, 2 million drunk Bostonians Are getting ready to sing ââ¬ÅAuld Lang Sineââ¬Âââ¬Â¦out of tune. I sit there in my easy chair, looking at the clouds, orange with celebration And I wonder if youââ¬â¢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 itââ¬â¢s my mother. And she says ââ¬ÅHI HONEY HOWââ¬â¢S BOSTON?ââ¬Â And I stand there, all alone on New Yearââ¬â¢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: ââ¬ÅOh, Iââ¬â¢m fine Momââ¬âhowââ¬â¢s Washington?ââ¬Â 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, yeahââ¬Â¦ So I guess the party line is I followed you up here. Well, I donââ¬â¢t know about that. Mainly because knowing about that would involve knowing some pathetic, ridiculous, and absolutely true things about myself that Iââ¬â¢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 sheââ¬â¢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: ââ¬ÅOh, Gladys, girl, I love you but, ohââ¬âget a life!ââ¬Â 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





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