Here's to growing up
here's to a night that's still unfucked
here's to a love that self destructs.
I don't believe in it much any more,
the status,
the dreams,
the money and the aches.

I'll watch you all night
my loaded pen in hand,
but I would put it down
if only you would ask.

So much to say
Hear me! we scream
Hear me! we shout
Love me! we mumble
and we're left to wonder why
it never quite works out.

I guess weddings bring out the worst in me,
but maybe they shouldn't have bought the wine so cheap.