Lincoln’s Birthday

Abraham, put down your slate
And blow your candles out. It’s late,
And there’s a stack of rails, I see,
That’s still unsplit. Why might that be?
You’ve always done your chores. It’s odd.
I blame that hussy, Mary Todd.
I don’t know what you see in that
Strange girl…. What’s this, a stovepipe hat?
How nice! Now, go bring in the dog,
Put out the cat, then clean your log.
Yes, even on your birthday, son!
When it’s your cabin, you’re the one
Who gets to make the rules; until
That day, your father and I will.
For now, you’re just a resident
Beneath our roof. The president
Himself would have no say in this!
Now, come and give your ma a kiss.
It’s not your birthday, after all,
Without my help, right, baby doll?
Who’s loving you the most? I am!
Happy birthday, Abraham.


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