With my toes dangling into the sea
Into a fog, into a lonely drink
Don't lift me up, I'm a wreck, I know
Still, I've got miles to walk from the cape along the coast

And we'll play helicopter in the sand
And bite our thumbs at the acquaintances
And make it known we're on par for the evening
And take the butcher's knife through my words again

Then in walk the mannered men
With their smokescreen eyes
And the sequined girls
With their skirts hemmed high

And you will know from this
That it's all to start, our glasses clink
And our plastic swords stab our olive hearts

All night like a friendly ghost
We haunt the ins and outs
Of this house of our gracious host
And give thanks but not much helps
And so here is where we give the toast

Cheers to the wives of the drunks
Cheers to the husbands that tag along for good luck
Cheers to the miles it took to get here
Cheers to the nerve it takes to forget who we are

Then in walk the mannered men
With their smokescreen eyes
And the sequined girls
With their skirts hemmed high

And you will know from this
That it's all to start, our glasses clink
And our plastic swords stab our olive hearts