| Friends are never earned they’re a gift from the loving God
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| And they’re precious beyond human evaluation
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| But you dare not take them for granted or they’ll lift away like a smoke
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| And the warmth of their caring will vanish into the chill of the endless nights
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| Most of my friends are unknowns they probably won’t even rate an obituary
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| Unless they live and die in a small town
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| Somewhere where nothing much ever happens
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| But a few of my friends are big people
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| They’d made the word ring with laughter down to this string of court
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| They’re famous sensitive talented and their names are household words
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| And yet they’re no more precious in God’s eyes or in mine
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| Than those wonderful nobodys who live and die in small towns
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| Who is your friend he’s someone who warms you with a nod
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| Or with an unspoken word in hard times when you’re hurting beyond words
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| Who is your friend he’s someone who holds you to her breast
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| And sighs softly into your hair when no other medicine could possibly stop the
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| pain
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| A friend is someone who clings his glass against yours
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| Or answers the phone at three in the morning when you’re lost
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| And with a few words of encouragement and concern
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| Makes you realize that you’re not really lost at all
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| Friends come in both sexes in all shapes and sizes
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| The most imprtant thing they have in common is their ability
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| To share with you your most sky splitting joys
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| Or your deepest most spelling ol' some sorrows for they’re all your friends |