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 If nobody smiled and nobody cared
 and nobody helped us along.
 If every moment looked after itself and
 good things always went to the strong;
 
 If nobody cared just a little about you
 and nobody cared about me,
 and we stood alone, in the battle of life,
 What a dreary old world this would be.


   It is doing and giving for somebody else
 on which all of life's splendor depends.
 The joy of this world, when you've
 summed it all up,
 is found in the making of friends