What a friend we have in time,
gives us children, makes us wine,
tells us what to take or leave behind.
And the gifts of growing old
are the stories to be told
of the feelings more precious than gold.
Friends, I will remember you,
think of you, pray for you
And when another day is through
I'll still be friends with you.
Babies' days are never long
Mother's laugh is baby's song
Gives us all the hope to carry on.