Each year we'll toast the friendships we have shared until the last man, and he shall toast alone for the bond we build with something rare in this brotherhood we've.
We stayed loyal to the vow, and when the world seemed distant, our circle held us tight.
In the warmth of fireside evenings, we found our guiding light.
Each year we'll toast the friendships we have shared Until the last man and he shall toast alone bore.
The bond we built was something rare in this brotherhood we've grown, so here's to all the memories stacked.
Highlight caught on leaves to the nights we stayed up talking to the hearts upon our sleeve.
Though the years might find us farther, Our spirits never part, For in the last man's toes we live forever in his heart.
Now the chairs sit empty.
Of the journey and the game.
In the quiet of the evening, you'll still hear us in the breeze.
A living testament to who will always be.
But the table's still the same, and whispering tales of friendship, of the journey and the game.
In the quiet of the evening, you'll still hear us in the breeze, the living testament to who will always be.
We didn't have to turn 60 to do this.
We've been to the friendships we had, but the only guy keeping us.