It's your birthday, happy birthday to you <br />It's your birthday, good luck to you <br />No wonder i'm confused <br />There is too much to remember <br />Too little space to put everything <br />I have to offload some of this baggage <br />No wonder people resent me <br />Twenty one thousand eight hundred and forty days <br />Someone had to feed me <br />Someone had to talk to me <br />Someone had to love me <br />Someone had to hate me <br />I haven't become more attractive <br />Though i have to wash more <br />But my hair is easier to comb <br />Old dogs come across the street <br />For one last smell <br />And i have a affinity with them <br />Other human beings look at you <br />And wonder why your still here <br />When i blow children a kiss <br />They run the other way <br />The days are becoming shorter <br />But they are filled with more <br />I used to be a angry young man <br />Now i'm a cranky old bastard <br />But i will mellow <br />As my skin turns yellow <br /> <br />Written on the eighteenth september 2005<br /><br />Allan James Saywell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twenty-one-thousand-eight-hundred-and-forty-days/
