Not surprisingly birthdays come on like villians knocking at our doors, tap, tap, tap, shifty-eyed fast speaking salesmen peddling love, wisdom, youth and popularity, pushing substitutes in bottles, tiny millimeters of hope;

Shifter stones, natal lovers, dark aliens, eavesdropping our days troubling our nights, Feigning possibilities of youth and good health Intertwining hope with dread, Fantasy with fact, Re-defining gravity as incidental, Promising regularity as attainable;

Sometimes we swallow their lines greedily with Regular doses of Metamucil, Centrum Silver and Maalox and So what if Lady Clairol is our friend?

When we can't sleep, Shifty fast speaking salesmen console us with companion pillows, heating pads, Flexall and Unisome, Unpearling our hopes and dreams a little while longer;

Old age is no party, No matter, No, No Not without all those young hot lovers,Who mused our days and pleasured our nights Come you now with wrinkled skin and Beer barrel waists with high, high foreheads;

No matter, No, No, Meet us at the Vender's Market in the Land of dreamy plenty. We will love you and will sing for you of good times Bottled and Preserved just for our Birthdays!