Happy Birthday, Vaj. I hope it's a good day for you up in Maine or wherever you are. Here's the song I always play for myself on my birthdays. I probably will continue to do so till they drop the big curtain:
I love the pounding of hooves I love engines that roar I love the wild music of waves on the shore And the spiral perfection of a hawk when it soars Love my sweet woman down to the core There's roads and there's roads And they call, can't you hear it? Roads of the earth And roads of the spirit The best roads of all Are the ones that aren't certain One of those is where you'll find me Till they drop the big curtain Hear the wind moan In the bright diamond sky These mountains are waiting Brown-green and dry I'm too old for the term But I'll use it anyway I'll be a child of the wind Till the end of my days Little round planet In a big universe Sometimes it looks blessed Sometimes it looks cursed Depends on what you look at obviously But even more it depends on the way that you see Hear the wind moan In the bright diamond sky These mountains are waiting Brown-green and dry I'm too old for the term But I'll use it anyway I'll be a child of the wind Till the end of my days -- Bruce Cockburn, 24 December 1989. Tucson, Arizona