Happy Birthday to my little bro!
a fine young lad he's grown to be
Been twenty-two years did You good Lord bestow
this firmly rooted child- a solid oak tree
Spent our younger years locked in combat
Pranks, tricks, acts of buffoonery
About thrice a week I'd venture to guess
We'd likely have a spat
As the years have passed us by
and as the Lord continually pursued
He's become our never ending supply
of answers to our feud
There's always much to be thankful for
Having a brother so warm and true
Each day I pray "Oh Lord,
Together we'd strive to be more like You"
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