A part of me was taken,
When you left that Christmas Day.
Standing on the doorstep,
As I watched you look away.
A look of shame had crossed your face,
When I asked where you had been last night.
A hesitant grin, a twinkle in your eye,
Then your excuse came out.
"Where else would I be hun,
Then at the Baker's house?
You know he had a new stock of gin
And I went to try it out."
How foolish I had been to believe that lie.
Seeing the red marks on your cheek,
And the handkerchief in your pocket.
You claimed were from old Baker's mom.
So as you left that Christmas night,
I only had one regret
And that was ever meeting you,
But that I can soon forget.