Most people have a way of making friends br That's very queer. br They don't choose whom they like, but anyone br In some way near. br The girl beside them on the factory bench, br The girl next door br Does. If they move then they forget the friend br They had before. br I choose the friends who suit me (one I found br Shut up in jail)— br Some nuns, some clerks, Anne whose beauty was br Frankly for sale. br Of course I cannot see them every day. br That's as Fate sends. br Blind Fate may choose my times for me, but not, br Oh not, my friends.