Around the corner I have a friend, In this great city that has no end; Yet days go by, and weeks rush on, And before I know it a year is gone, And 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 And he rang mine. We were younger then, And now we are busy, tired men: Tired with playing a foolish game, Tired with 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 the distance between us grows and grows Around the corner! -- yet miles away. . . . "Here's a telegram, sir. . . ." @3"Jim died today."@1 And that's what we get, and deserve in the end: Around the corner, a vanished friend. |