When a feller hasn't got a cent
And is feeling kind of blue,
And the clouds hang thick and dark
And won't let the sunshine through,
It's a great thing, oh my brethren,
For a feller just to lay
Her hand upon your shoulder in a friendly sort o' way.
It makes a man feel queerish,
It makes the tear-drops start.
And you kind o' feel a flutter
In the region of your heart.
You can't look up and meet her eye,
You don't know what to say
When a hand is on your shoulder in a friendly sort o' way.
Oh this world's a curious compound
With its honey and its gall;
Its cares and bitter crosses,
But a good world after all.
And a good God must have made it,
Leastwise that is what I say,
When a hand is on your shoulder in a friendly sort o' way
Khalil Breidi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fellowship-2/
