Around the corner I have a friend, In this great city that has no end Yet the 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 but we were younger then, And now we are busy, tired men Tired of playing a foolish game, Tired of trying to make a name.
