We peer at friends through clouded windows
They smile back; they know we're there
Our eyes are focused on the fogbanks
Peering out through stagnant air
We hold up glasses toasting bad times
Somehow good now, longsince past
We pick our wounds then lick them clean again
And laugh about what never was
"They could have been so many great things"
People whisper just in range
Where did I go wrong, why did I bother
Life is only masks and champagne
It's spelled champagne.