Friends
Friend is a word that I don't throw around,
Though it's used and 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 and banks and visit with queens.
And some of my friends are up to their neck.
In overdue notes and 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 don't have nothin to do,
With talent or money or knowin who's who.
It's a comfterbul feeling when you don't have to care.
'bout choosin your words or bein quite fair.
Cause friends 'll just listen and let go on by,
Those words you don't mean and not bat an eye.
It makes a friend happy to see your success,
They're proud of yer good side and forgive all the rest.
And that ain't so easy all of the time,
Sometimes I get crazy and seem to go blind.
Yer friend might just 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,
Is the high point of givin I'll tell you tonight.
All worldly riches and tributes to men,
Can't hold a candle to the worth of a friend.
