An older brother, another year.

Remember that one time, I nicknamed you Pid?
A new joke of mine, It was short for stuPid.
But then you chuckled, and nicknamed me Stu.
The conversation buckled, the joke wasn't on you.
You turned it around, and our laugh became one
We stand on level ground, and know how to have fun.

When you say something really dumb, I find it hilarious.
You've laughed at my jokes some, when others are precarious.
I might say something lame, like "Dude, I think you're car is pimp,
it really steps up your game. If it was a prius you'd be a wimp."
When so many of these others, would look at me and respond,
"Dude you and your brother, your minds must be gone."
But you and I both know, we're totally legit.
And our confidence bro, it makes us a bigger hit.

You also paint pictures. They're quite amazing works of art.
You're definitely mature. Mom says I just sit around and fart.
Even though it's not true, I don't pass that much gas.
I usually hold it in, cause I gotta find myself a lass.
But around you my dear Pid, it's a beautiful thing.
We act like little kids, to me, happiness you bring.

When I think about it now, it almost makes me wanna tear.
Cause as I write these words down, I realize you've always been near.
Sure you now live downstate, so we aren't actually hanging out,
But I can put the phone to my face, and a conversation will sprout.
So Cameron, on your day of birth, my brother, my friend, my Pid.
I respect you for living life with girth, and how we act like little kids.