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| Friend is a word that I don't throw around |
| Though it's used & abused, I still like the sound. |
| I save it for people who've done right by me |
| And I know I can count on, if ever need be. |
| Some of my friends drive big limousines |
| Own ranches & banks & visit with queens, |
| And some of my friends are up to their neck |
| In overdue notes & can't write a check. |
| They're singers or ropers or writers of prose |
| And others, God bless'em, can't blow their own nose! |
| I guess bein' friends doesn't have anything to do |
| With talent or money or knowin' who's who. |
| It's a comfortable feelin' when you don't have to care, |
| 'Bout chosin' your words or bein' quite fair. |
| 'Cause friends'll just listen & let go on by |
| Those words you don't mean & not bat an eye. |
| It makes a friend happy to see your success. |
| They're proud of your good side & forgive all the rest. |
| And that ain't so easy, all of the time, |
| Sometimes I get crazy & seem to go blind! |
| Your friend just might have to take you on home, |
| Or remind you sometime, that you're not alone. |
| Or ever so gently pull you back to the ground, |
| When you think you can fly, with no one around. |
| A hug or a shake, whichever seems right |
| It's the high point of givin', I'll tell ya tonite, |
| All worldly riches & tributes of men, |
| Can't hold a candle to the worth of a friend. |
| author unknown |
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