What are Friends, I've often wondered. Friends have come, And Friends have gone. Seldom do I hear their voices, Like old forgotten songs. I've walked a thousand lonely miles, And often wondered, "What went wrong?" But I've got to make you see; A friend to you I'll always be.
A friend is not a thing to trade, Not to bo bought, nor to be sold; Not the ring upon your fingers. It's not the bills which you fold, Not the coins your pocket holds. A friend is young, A friend is old. And I've got to make you see, A friend is true, a friend is free; A friend to you I'll always be.
A friend is not the fancy car, In which you ride around. A friend is not the little pill, That makes you head spin round and round. A friend is not the needle, That creates the clouds, On which you fly. It's not the smoke that makes you high, But a hand that's always by, To wipe the tears from your eyes, Should the world make you cry. And I've got to make you see, Our friendship grows like a tree; A friend to you I'll always be.
What are friends, I've often wondered, Now you've disappeared, Fading into the collection, Of songs I seldom hear, I'll walk another lonely mile, And let the tears fall like the rain, 'Till another calls me friend, Then I'll say these words again; A friend to you, I'll always be.
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