If all the words you spoke, dear,
Were every one untrue,
There can be nothing good, dear,
In earth, or sun, or dew;
And all the world's a lie, dear,
Because of you.
If all the smiles you gave, dear,
Were only to beguile,
Why then there's nothing sweet, dear,
In any human smile;
And what we deem most fair, dear,
Is only vile.
If every kiss that lingered
Upon the lips you pressed,
Was but an empty token,
More fickle than the rest;
I wish that I had died, dear,
For death were best.