Happy Birthday, Stranger!

Were you simply too dumb to grow up and become not a butcher or baker nor a candlestick maker? As they say here, at home do not travel to Rome stay and serve fellow man be as kind as you can put new soles on our shoes make good wine, beer or booze, be a preacher of sort or a pro in a sport. Like to fix people's ailments or prevent those derailments be a banker downtown or a surgeon cum gown? No you ripened like Neville even look like the devil had to drift with the breezes taste the French and their cheeses and the Krauts with their beer you were foolish, you hear? And today, like a missile you come home and you whistle while expecting applause you get ohs, boohs and aawes. It's your birthday you say now well it's silly, you know how all the people forget as if never we met. So you might as well run, for our prodigal son didn't go off to fiddle from the earth's peaceful middle to the poles and then back leaving prints on the track. Life is what you can make it I suggest that you bake it, that elusive of cakes which will soothe all your aches. Have a seat by the manger, as you see it still stands, Happy Birthday, lone stranger and go back to your lands.