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GLOOMY SUNDAY

SUNDAY IS GLOOMY, MY HOURS ARE SLUMBERLESS.
DEAREST, THE SHADOWS I LIVE WITH ARE NUMBERLESS.
LITTLE WHITE FLOWERS WILL NEVER AWAKEN YOU,
NOT WHERE THE BLACK COACH OF SORROW HAS TAKEN YOU.
ANGELS HAVE NO THOUGHTS OF EVER RETURNING YOU,
WOULD THEY BE ANGRY IF I THOUGHT OF JOINING YOU?

GLOOMY IS SUNDAY, IN SHADOWS I SPEND IT ALL.
MY HEART AND I HAVE DECIDED TO END IT ALL.
SOON THERE'LL BE CANDLES,
AND PRAYERS THAT ARE SAD, I KNOW.
LET THEM NOT WEEP,
LET THEM KNOW THAT I'M GLAD TO GO.
DEATH IS NO DREAM, FOR IN DEATH I'M CARESSING YOU,
WITH THE LAST BREATH OF MY SOUL I'LL BE BLESSING YOU.

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