![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvoEuourkMxlWheZxlxaZEufEZRwPBi1wUy4FUZIMyL-joJeSc9tUy5m_lDhKQlzVNPoJjLCS7-UwRFQ6VcV80Pi5WFZaFgVHHdnIyjwrQrUjg9TwFTfoFsH5nNxz0fY9ohDiQGhAsTo/s200/There+isn%27t+much+that+I+can+do.gif)
There isn’t much that I can do, but I can sit an hour with you, and I can share a joke with you, and sometimes share reverses, too—as on our way we go.
There isn’t much that I can do, but I can share my flowers with you, and I can share my books with you and sometimes share your burdens, too—as on our way we go.
There isn’t much that I can do, but I can share my songs with you, and I can share my mirth with you, and sometimes come and laugh with you—as on our way we go.
There isn’t much that I can do, but I can share my hopes with you, and I can share my fears with you, and sometimes shed tears with you—as on our way we go.
There isn’t much that I can do, but I can share my friends with you, and I can share my life with you, and oftentimes share a prayer with you—as on our way we go.
AUTHOR UNKNOWN