The art of suicide, nightgowns and hair

Curls flying every which way

The fate to pure to hide

Ridges of size

Meant to conceal lover's lies

Under the arches of moonlight and sky

Suddenly easy to contemplate why, why

Why live a life

That's painted with pity and sadness and strife

Why dream a dream

That's tainted with trouble and less than it seems

Why bother bothering

Just for a poem or another sad song to sing

Why live a lie

Why live a lie

The art of suicide, gritty and clean

Conveys a theatrical scene

Alas, 'i've gone' she cried

Veins displayed

Melodramatically laid

Under the arches of moonlight and sky

Suddenly easy to contemplate why, why

Why live a life

That's painted with pity and sadness and strife

Why dream a dream

That's tainted with trouble and less than it seems

Why bother bothering

Just for a poem or another sad song to sing

Why live a lie

Why live a lie

Why live a life

That's painted with pity and sadness and strife

Why dream a dream

That's tainted with trouble and less than it seems

Why bother bothering

Just for a poem or another sad song to sing

Why live a lie

Why live a lie

Why live a lie

Why live a lie

Life is not like gloomy sunday

With a second ending where the people are disturbed

Well they should be disturbed

Because there's a story that ought to be heard

Life is not like gloomy sunday

With a second ending where the people are disturbed

Well they should be disturbed

Because there's a lesson that really ought to be learned

The world is full of poets

We don't need anymore

The world is full of singers

We don't need anymore

The world is full of lovers

We don't need anymore