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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required “Auld Lang Syne” - the most-sung New Year's Eve song Courtesy Robert Burns circa (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) the National Bard, Bard of Ayrshire and the Ploughman Poet. Two hundred sixty one orbitz elapsed since brief existence of aforementioned Scottish poet and lyricist graced Earth, yet his legacy unwittingly still enshrined, regaled, warbled... upon cusp of New Year's Eve, when revelers sing familiar words getting misty eyed about times long past, yet without doubt. Courtesy Geordie composer William Shield 5 March 1748 – 25 January 1829, an English composer, violinist and violist contemporaneous with former credited with writing music linkedin with aforementioned tune posthumous popularity doth wield. Covid-19 pandemic that swept across human lot decrees loved ones untimely passing, a poignant jot upon surviving kith and kin necessitates apropos bon mot to allow, enable and provide succor yada yada yada loosening Gordian knot constricting one groveling, muttering, and sniveling snot. Convenient heft of New Year's eve lends clout any other month date day one could more easily flout generally speaking/writing vouchsafing making resolutions not agreeable with lout spinning forth verses as he moseys along figurative groovy route. Abstract notion delineating, indicating, plotting, and zoning passage of time extremely elusive to grasp at least for purposes of reasonable poetic soupy rhyme nevertheless civilizations far and wide codifying, formulating, identifying lapsing seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years... constituting artificial construct paradigm watching, validating, tabulating, recording, pendulum swinging tick tock while days of our lives segues from day into nighttime as the world (wide web) turns. Now join in and sing if not averse despite damning series (I tip hat to Lemony Snicket) of unfortunate events, a curse hundreds of years ago witnessed by countless many horse drawn hearse when "bring out your dead" what fate could be worse? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For days of auld lang syne We twa hae run about the braes And pu'd the gowans fine But we've wander'd mony a weary fit Sin days of auld lang syne We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn Frae morning sun till dine But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin days of auld lang syne For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For days of auld lang syne And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp And surely I'll be mine And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne And there's a hand, my trusty fiere And gie's a hand o' thine And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught For auld lang syne For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne.
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