I know what you like.
Goodies, toys, boys, laughter and attention.
Mom bought you a doll and a clown and a big party
with a candle-topped cake to count your years.
If I were to come by
I'd bring you what I thought you always wanted
but I know she wouldn't think so
or think as much of me even if I did.
When I see her next I'm sure
she'll brag with pictures of the bow on your head
and how the clown gave you a happy birthday card
in song form with a wet flower and a cheer.
I know I told you I'd be there sweetheart.
This and that came up. I still love you;
you're my babygirl no matter what.
Things aren't like normal; someday you'll see why.
Me and mom aren't the same clowns we used to be.
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