Last Letter, The

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Why do you treat me as if I was only a friend
What have I done that has made you so different and cold
Sometimes I wonder if you’ll be contented again
Will you be happy when you are withered and old

I cannot offer you diamonds or mansions so fine
I cannot offer you clothes that your young body craves
But if you’ll say that you forever long to be mine
Think of the heartaches, the sorrows and tears you will save

When you are lonely and tired of another man’s gold
When you are weary, remember this letter, my own
Don’t try to answer though I’ll suffer anguish unknown
If you don’t love me I wish you would leave me alone

While I am writing this letter I think of our past
And of the promises that you are breaking so free
But to this old world, I’ll soon say my farewell at last
I will be gone when you read this last letter from me