He was as thin as a match stick as far as I could remember
He loved to play and tease among his age no matter what gender
He dressed up in black like a skater-boy rockin’ from hell
He liked ball games until it made him unwell
Years have passed and things have changed
A match stick became a match box with the soul still unchanged
Walking with leather shoes and a suit so you’ll be in awe
Teasing and playing with only one girl that no one foresaw
He lived not from a luxurious mansion
Wrought by the time with all the tension
Now he gets everything he wanted
As long as he has his head up and scouted
Looking back on the twenty one years of his existence
Thirty eight percent in which I was able to scrape off in silence
So here’s to another day that your birth is celebrated
Oh and I can’t thank God enough that this day has existed.
