Median - Codeine

Thinking 'bout the new year

All the dirt it’ll attract

Chipped apart the last one

Glad to see it done

I want days so perfect

Perfect in ways I’ll never see

Wearing the headframes [?}

Trim and pure, like me [?}

Counting up your blessings

Think of all the things we lack

Counting down to zero

Then you’ll never get it back

A lot of heads need breaking

But I know that thought is wrong

Things might turn against me

Then again, I’d do the same

One foot on the platform

On foot on the train