Would that she could make of me a saint, or I of her a sinner.

For either way we end this, how can I be the winner?

To take a life I live to love,

And love a life I plan to take.

How in the waking hour of night,

I think of this with sudden fright.

To hold her future in my palm,

Her heart within my soul.

But to live without her by my side,

Would not be living a moment of life.

This 'life' I live, I wish to give,

But she'd take hers, to follow suit.

To know that either way,

She'd follow me any day,

To the depths of hell,

Where my heart would quell.

Would she could make of me a saint, or I of her a sinner?

Now we know that in the end, I'll never be a winner.

To take a life I live to love,

Or love a live I plan to take?

What right have I to take her life,

What good am I to take her life,

For I am the sinner,

And she is the saint.

Now that, to tell you, is hardly quaint.