Relatives we`re landed with,
Maybe most we wish to keep,
Yet hidden away quite often
There is that ' old black sheep',
Very little choice we have
As each family tree may grow and grow
Roots spreading far and wide
As the four winds can blow,
Often they`re not here for us
Or even think to care,
They`re wrapped up in their own lives
With little time to spare.

But friends we can depend on,
A true friend won`t let us down,
They may not share our blood
Yet they`ll do their best to lift our frown.