I never see my old friend's face,
For life is a swift and terrible race.
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.

We were much younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men...
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.

"Tomorrow" I say "I will call on Jim"
"Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.

Around the corner - yet miles away,
Here's a telegram sir - "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end,
Around the corner, a vanished friend.