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.

...

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