Fifty-five years ago today,
I decided to have my way,
And I was born that day.
No, there should be two months more!
They both said as they hit the door.
What was I so in a hurry for?
I think my say ended that day,
My mother began to have her way,
I was the one that would pay.
All that time I asked for more,
I might as well have hit the door,
I grew up thinking I was poor.
I found that I was poor indeed,
For all those things that I did need,
But she never seemed to heed.
Every time I gave a call,
I was made to face the wall,
Without having done anything at all.