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The Nerve to Speak

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Had I but had the nerve to speak!
I wished that he would mend his ways,
But in the end I proved too weak
And rendered to him only praise.

I wished that he would mend his ways:
To that one hope I stoutly clung,
And rendered to him only praise.
He held the girls; I held my tongue.

To that one hope I stoutly clung;
He never heard my soul's lament.
He held the girls; I held my tongue,
Pretended I was calm, content.

He never heard my soul's lament;
I stayed a servant, played my role,
Pretended I was calm, content --
I might have saved my master's soul!

I stayed a servant, played my role,
But in the end I proved too weak.
I might have saved my master's soul,
Had I but had the nerve to speak.