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.