Shall I sing you a little birthday song

If I won’t get my lyrical notes so wrong

Or would you rather, I didn’t sing at all

And made you a cake instead that towers tall

Like the immeasurable height of your own appeal

That in me causes silliness and happiness I can’t conceal

Or like Tennyson’s monument on the Isle of Wight

At whose foot we stood and smiled so bright?

To sing or bake, have I not the skill

Yet, these little lines did I plan to spill

To sing happy birthday this way I sound strong

On your special day that’s been another year long