Bad Women, Bad Whiskey

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 till they come to get me

I shall hold your hand in mine