One more love song. I generally like to include at least one or two love songs in the evening`s program, partly perhaps to convince people that even at the Harvard University Graduate School, that hotbed of celibacy that I used to call home, we did have our moments. This one is a tender ballad entitled simply I Hold Your Hand In Mine.
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.