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 now I killed you,
for our love was something fine
And till they come to get me,
I shall hold your hand in mine.