He has always been my friend,
even when I did not see him.
He is special amid ordinary men.
He has always been my friend.
Though we are parted now and then,
by work or play or wanderlust whim,
he has always been my friend,
even when I did not see him
What’s there or what’s coming, who can know.
there might be some bad, maybe some good.
Perhaps we’ll make of it as much as we should.
What’s there or what’s coming, who can know,
some rays of sunshine, some days of snow.
We’ll bask or we’ll shovel as well as we could,
preferring the good days, like anyone would.
What’s there or what’s coming, who can know.
A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
as our summer too soon becomes the fall.
This is true in writing, in all the arts.
A thought arises, lingers not, departs.
We must soon act on what is in our hearts,
lest we would forget, lose our soul, our all.
A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
as our summer too soon becomes the fall.
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