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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.
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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,
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And till they come to get me
|
I shall hold your hand in mine.
|
|
|
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|
I Hold Your Hand In Mine
|
| Tom Lehrer |
