Number 2 of 4
"Rob on Friendship"
When all you need is to be alone
You're hounded be people
Who'll ask and talk
And make you "enjoy" life. . .
But when all you want is a listening ear
When you're crying hoarsley to the wind
There's never anybody there
Who listens, or who really cares.
Who'll cry for you?
Who'll place flowers at your head,
when you're six feet under, stone cold dead?
Will it be those people who made you cry?
Or the man with the rifle raised to the sky?
Will it be the pastor who's sleeping alone?
Or Jesus the saviour, all carved out of stone?
I know who'll cry for you. . .
When you're desperate and crying
When you're half way to dying
When you're suffocating on aftershave
To draw attention to yourself. . .
When you're bleeding just to call for help
When you're reading old letters that have faded and aged
When you're an old man at sixteen
These days you need those friends who left you behind
But they've moved on and they're not there to find. . .
Friends last a lifetime, so they say
But I know the truth, it's not that way
There's a time and a place for people like friends
The time is gone, and the place
is down the road
and 'round the bend.
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