when you're a kid, your birthday's all you dream of 
'cause you dream of helium balloons and chocolate cake 
the kind of wrapping bow like a rose made of ribbon 
your whole family singing off-key 
and you dream of it all, 
the one day in the year you can call yours, like a checkpoint in the race of life. 

take a breath here. you've come so far. 

but kids don't stay kids. 
they kill that kid, deep inside, lock them up and say it's to protect them. 
you will not survive this. 
birthdays are just another day. days don't matter in the long run. 
don't they? 
you throw away the streamers, you throw away the confetti, 
you are told that you are so mature and so grown-up and can't they see? 
you want them to be proud. 
will this make them proud? 

dance in the rain, get drunk on champagne, set off some fireworks and laugh when they explode. 
a birthday's just a day, but anyone can tell you every day matters 
especially this. 
you will grow up eventually. 
adulthood can wait. 

open this present. 
will you like it?