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When Zoe ate her birthday cake |
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she threw icing on the wall |
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And they sent her to her room |
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no more birthdays 'til next June |
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But don't they know it's lovely though |
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to watch the icing falll? |
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And to see the tracks it makes |
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sticky streams of chocolate cake |
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But wasn't it her brother Joe |
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who egged her on the throw? |
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\"Be like that famous pitcher |
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in that late night picture show, picture show.\" |
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As Zoe cried herself to sleep |
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she vowed to show them all |
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\"You will see that I am great |
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'specially now that I am eight.\" |
