I Hold Your Hand in Mine

I hold your hand in mine, dear,

I press it to my lips.

I take a healthy bite

From your dainty fingertips.

My joy would be complete, dear,

If you were only here,

But still I keep your hand

As a precious souvenir.

The night you died I cut it off.

I really don't know why.

For now each time I kiss it

I get bloodstains on my tie.

I'm sorry that I killed you,

For our love was something fine,

And till they come to get me

I shall hold your hand in mine.