Today’s the day my dead dad turns eighty four.It probably means less now than it ever would before.
You ask, "Do you love him?" I reply, "Yes, of course!"
Today’s the last day my dead dad turns eighty four.

Wait! I made a mistake! He’s actually eighty eight!
Congratulations, Pops! I’ll try to keep it straight.
You were born in thirty six; there’s no room for debate.
Today’s the first day your ghost will be eighty eight.

It’s not like I believe in afterlife or Heaven and shit.
I just wanna cover bases, getting credit ‘fore I split.
Maybe admit reincarnation’s a hit
and then celebrate, getting dead dad’s candle’s lit.

Anyway, happy birthday my dead dad.
Hope you enjoy in your zombie party pad
eating brains with all your new undead comrades.
Love, your son, a living, middle-aged lad…