"Tell me, my friends," said I, "what are the saddest words you've heard?"
"Could they be 'we are closed'," piped one, "when trying to buy a drink?
Or how about 'we're dry' my son," chimed pal two with a wink.
"But no," said I, "the saddest sound that you will ever hear,
is two words very often bound with thoughts of one held dear.
See, once I loved a gal so fair - in fact I love her yet -
with love that was beyond compare, though seasoned with regret."
"She loved a better man than I, saw me as 'just a friend',
she never knew each night I'd cry, so I had to pretend.
Yes, pretend that she meant nothing, and didn't hold my heart,
but m'lads, the strain of bluffing almost tore me apart."
"We've all been down that road I'm sure, that well-worn, travelled track,
Where we've no choice but to endure someone not loving back.
Ah, if only she had loved me, if only she had dared,
if only she had wanted me, if only she had cared."
"If only she had needed me, as living things need air,
if only she had longed for me, I'd not have known despair.
Another time, another place, who knows what might've been?
The look of love upon her face is what I might've seen."
"Despite my heartache I'll be brave, though there's no worse pain than this -
of trudging onward to the grave, and never knowing her kiss.
The saddest words you'll ever hear - the anthem of the lonely -
come with a sigh and oft a tear - two whispered words - 'If only'."
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