You became my convict,
a murderer of my happy days,
a cigar that I puffed the wrong way,
an terminal illness
that I would take no pill for,
my best deal to die
o'er a brokenheart,
my final destination
when I am lost and broke,
the reason to meet a tailor
for my suit,
to go into a coffin;
when you could have been
by my side
and into all that I ever dreamt about
as I planned rest of my life with you.
You could have been my Snoopy,
for I could have been your only
CharlieBrown.
You could have been my lover, my escort,
my bride hanging onto the other side of my lips.
Goodnight now, Mrs. Sanders!
Goodnight so long, so far!