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 'til they come to get me
I shall hold your hand in mine.