Every New Year is the direct descendant, isn't it, of a long line of proven criminals?

Tonight’s December thirty-first,
Something is about to burst.
The clock is crouching, dark and small,
Like a time bomb in the hall.
Hark, it's midnight, children dear.
Duck! Here comes another year!

I come from a long line of sportsmen.

I come from a long line of revolutionaries.

I come from a long line of staunch Irish Catholics.

Each year is a new year.