From dismal daily rhythm came a dizzy ritual,
Stood waiting for your Ma to collect you,
Wondering if she ever asked you,
Who I was to you?
And wishing that I knew.
Then smudging your birthday card,
And thinking I didn't ought to have gotten you one on the first place,
But hoping for many happy returns to you,
Hoping for many happy returns to you.
Delivering a brick to the window of a house that I resented,
'Cause I thought you might have liked it,
But probably without me in it.
And knowing I wasn't even close to keeping you up on a night,
But hoping that someday I might,
And knowing I wasn't even close,
To taking your fangs,
Or even getting bitten.

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