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 thought of ever returning you
Would they be angry if I thought of joining you?

Gloomy Sunday

Sunday is gloomy, with shadows I spend it all
My heart and I have decided to end it all
Soon there’ll be flowers 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

Gloomy Sunday