Why do you treat me as if I were only a friend?
What have I done that has made you so distant 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 and mansions so fine.
I cannot offer you clothes that your young body craves.
But if you'll say that, you long to forever be mine.
Just think of the teardrops, the heartaches, and sorrow you'll see.
While I am writing this letter, I think of the past.
And of the promises that you have broken so free.
And to this old world, I'll soon say my farewell at last.
I will be gone when you read this last letter from me.