Happy Birthday Forty-Niner

Just like folks whom to California rushed, in eighteen hundred forty-nine;

I got rich and struck a wealth of gold, the day the angels made you mine!

When the nurses brought you out to me, all of them agreed;

That you were the most beautiful little baby boy, that they had ever see’d!

We named you Martin in honor of your great grandpa Max, the father of my own;

Who carved furniture for fifty years, and in Philadelphia, was well known!

As you grew, you had his genes, for you created works of art;

You blossomed into a handsome lad, and broke a lot of hearts!

You did a stint as a pugilist, strange job, for a boy so white;

Then you decided you’d drive a taxi cab, and work all through the night!

But one day, “not mad”, you hit the roof, the kind that’s on a house;

And up on it, you found your niche, you’d repair them, and their damage douse!

You learned quickly, how to be a pro, but also, to only work for “you”;

For the companies that you made rich, on your commissions you’d get screwed!

So, one day, you said, “I’ve had enough, I’m starting a company that’s my own”;

You’ve worked real hard for several years, and quite successful have you grown!

So, on this day, your special one, I want the world to see;

That my handsome boy of forty-nine, means so much to me!

And even though I can’t be there, for we live nine hundred miles apart;

I’m sending you this “bar of gold”, the love that’s in my heart!