Wanda Jackson — The Last Letter

Why must you treat me as if I were only a friend? 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 that your young body craves But if you'll say that forever you will be mine Think of the heartaches, the tears, and the sorrow you'll save When you are weary and tired of another one's gold When you are lonely, remember this letter, my own Don't try to answer though I suffer anguish untold If you don't love me, I wish you would leave me alone While I am writing this letter, I think of the past And of the promises that you are breaking so free But soon I'll bid my farewell to this old world at last I will be gone when you read this last letter from me