The Last Letter

Last Letter - Don Gibson

Why do you treat me as if I were only a friend

And what have I done that's 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 your young body crave

But if you'll say that you long to forever be mine

Take off the heartaches the tears and the sorrow you'll save

Why I am writing this letter I think of the past

And of the promises that you are breaking so free

But to this world I will soon say my farewells at last

I will be gone when you read this last letter from me