Quick: our hosts are going to close their eyes to kiss,
and we're the last people that they are going to miss.
So let's smuggle some of wine out from the bar
and hide out until the silent auction in your car.

And raise a styrofoam cup,
because, beneath it all,
there was something here to see:
that even now, with sober hearts,
you're the closest thing to me.

You first knew me as this awkward teenage kid
who dressed like Morrisey with spots and jutting ribs,
shrouding all the uncompelling things in me
in a silence that inferred great mystery.

So raise a styrofoam cup,
'cause, beneath it all,
there was something here to see:
that even now, with sober hearts,
you're the closest thing to me.

And may our hosts find wedded love
somewhere far away from us.
We'll bear witness to our own slow, subtle change
yeah, and poke fun at all the things that still remain.

So raise a styrofoam cup,
because, beneath it all,
there was something here to see:
that even now, with sober hearts,
you're the closest thing to me.