Lehrer takes a familiar romantic expression literally, letting a gentle address turn into an unsettling fictional confession. The sixteen-line lyric is complete. A separate printed reference to another writer's parody is not part of the lyric and is excluded.
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.