Where to begin when you come to the end,
That's always the thing to remember.
I relished the tunes and the songs that we played --
We could have played through till December.

And I guess I just thought you would always be there,
Digging around in your case for your flat-pick;
Always ready to sing, or encourage a song
From the shy ones -- yes, I saw you do that trick.

Wherever you were, the music was there,
Whatever your life was, was a song,
So I'm hoisting my glass to you, absent friend,
And I'm trusting our parting ain't long.


... Bob Clayton