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.