The last letter
Why do you treat me as if I were only a friend What have I done that has made you so bitter and cold Sometimes I wonder if you'll be contented again Will you be happy when we are withered and old I cannot offer you diamonds and mansions so fine I cannot offer you clothes that your young body craves But if you'll only say that you'll forever be mine Think of the heartaches, the pain and suffering you'll save While I am writing this letter I think of the past And of the promises that you have broken so free But to this old world, I'll soon bid my farewell at last I will be gone when you read this last letter from me