The Sin of My Life

I once lived with a woman. She was not my wife,
since she would not be fit to my madness and life.
She was nice, though, and sweet, and she offered me sex,
and with her my apartment was always à lex.

Then I woke, and what happened was that she was ill.
She was terribly ill, and my fiancée still.
So, I left her. And I know I should not have done.
She was sudden response. And she never was won.

I was all on my own. She, as woman, was not.
Even Marx had a friend. And a family got.
I should not have been proud, and possessed with my glow.
I should Jesus have trusted, and faithfully grow.