I want to lose some weight in twenty twenty,

so once again we have this pantomime,

‘cause each year I make promises a-plenty,

but self-control’s the problem every time.

 

I mostly make it last for several days,

but soon those awful cravings come along,

and all at once my traitor conscience says

a single bar of chocolate can’t be wrong.

 

It isn’t long before I start to sneak

a biscuit in beside my cup of tea;

so then I feel resistance getting weak,

and nibble on an apple pie or three.

 

In truth my resolution’s heading south,

unless I get to sewing up my mouth!