|
|
|
|
On the Death of a Friend |
|
|
|
As Death walks in, so Time runs out. No time to say goodbye. We know not where it is you’ve gone We’re just left wond’ring, ‘Why?’ Why you and not somebody else? It seems just so unfair. Why us left here behind, alone, With all the grief to bear?
As Death walks in, so Time runs out. No time to sit and chat, To find a quiet pub, to have A beer and chew the fat, To talk about good times we had, To put the world to rights, Discuss the weather or the match, Or lift talk to new heights.
As Death walks in, so Time runs out. No time to make amends That what was said is history And that we are still friends. We all use words we do not mean. We all do things that jar, But nothing said or done in haste Should leave a lasting scar
As Death walks in, so Time runs out. No time to say we care We pick the phone up, then recall That you’re no longer there. We meant to say ‘We love you’ but The time was never right. But now we can’t because you are Forever out of sight.
As Death walks in, so Time runs out. No time to be prepared For sudden loss of somebody For whom we really cared We know that time will heal our loss But now the pain still smarts. Though we may never meet again You’ll never leave our hearts.
© Ken Wood 2003 |
|
