Friend is a word that I don't throw around,
Though its used and abused, I still like the sound.
I save it for people who've done right by me,
And I know I can't 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 knowing who's who.
It's a comfortable feelin' when you don't have to care
'Bout chosen' 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 just might 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 ya tonight.
All worldly riches and tributes of men,
Can't hold a candle to the worth of a friend.

--Baxter Black--