There's a man buried in a church yard Who was once a friend of mine. A boy who grew to manhood And became a talent of his time. He met with famous people their images he drew, They remain his legacy Now his earthly life is through. I met him through another friend and Both are long gone now, Along with others that I knew Who took that final bow. Yet still they're all remembered as The memories remain And the pictures by my artist friend are there to look at once again.
