People keep asking me
About my birthday plan.
I fake a smile and say
I'm sorry, I've none.
I can't explain them why
my birthday plan seems wrong
Can't get it off my mind so
I'm writing this in a song.
I'll be at home, pretending
I'm having a great time!
Inside I'll be repeating
this mantra in my mind,
I might have lost another year
but it's okay, I'll be fine.
Outside I'll be laughing, Inside
Coaxing the tired soul of mine.
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
Cut my birthday cake.
I don't want no gifts, just tell me
It's gonna be okay.
Can I just stop the time?
Tell me what will it take?
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
Pretend on my birthday.
I'm gonna be an year older,
How could I have fun!
I'm losing the race I was put in.
How fast do I have to run?
I have this mantra as an excuse
It's okay, I'm still young.
How many more birthdays
do I have, before I lose this one.
How do other people look
so happy while cutting cakes.
Am I the only depressed
birthday guy who fakes.
How did I grow up into
someone who hate birthdays,
Someone with tar of sorrow
in the heart and cake on the face.
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
Cut my birthday cake.
I don't want no gifts, just tell me
It's gonna be okay.
Can I just stop the time?
Tell me what will it take?
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
Pretend on my birthday.
