Happy Birthday to me…

It’s my birthday today,

fifty five years young.

Less eight for good behaviour,

and a shocking sense of timing.


I missed the moon landing,

if it wasn’t made up.

Watergate and the Vietnam War,

pretty much done for the day.


Avoided Leeds winning the cup,

so to me it never happened.

Also missed their 69 title,

what title you’ll hear me say.


Sgt. Pepper arrived before me,

with his Lonely Hearts Band.

Missed the Summer of Love,

then the murder of Dr. King.


I did get here in time,

for the winter of discontent.

Maggie she snatched my milk,

and made us all unemployed.


So now that I am ancient,

nearing one hundred and three.

Just a few more words,

Happy Birthday to me.


3 thoughts on “Happy Birthday to me…

  1. Happy B-day, Phill! Technically, you were here for the moon landing and the Summer of Love, but I can see where you wouldn’t really remember those. But Thatcher! What a thing to be right on time for. I curse her for privatizing the railways every time I visit London. Joyfully stuff yourself with cake and go vote for Brexit.

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