CLOSE FRIENDS By Tom Jensen
Sometimes it seems like
The light of this life
Is a sunken treasure
Buried five miles below
The abyss in this sea of hate
You take a deep breath
You want to dive right in
But it's a fool's death
When you don't know
How and where to begin...
Only slow and steady
Wins this here race
But it's a sure bet that
Before the game ends
You will find your place
And I'll be your saving grace
If you plan your steps
You can slow your pace
For the best things come
To those who wait...
(wait for it...)
No, I'm not selling souls roadmaps
Just a bunch of spattered clichés
Oh, and I've learned to take little naps
Rather than try to stay awake or hibernate
For life is so preciously short
Surely this is no time to waste
With so many piles of things to sort
And they just get higher with haste
Though burning the candle at both ends
Always causes you know who to catch fire
I've told this to many of my close friends
In my defense no one's ever called me a liar