The art of suicide
Nightgowns and hair
Curls flying every which where
The pain too pure to hide
Bridges of Sighs
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
Pretty and clean
Conveys a theatrical scene
“Alas, I´m gone!” she cried
Ankles 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

Life is not like Gloomy Sunday
With a second ending
When the people are disturbed
Well they should be disturbed
Because there´s a story
That ought to be heard
Life is not like a gloomy Sunday
With a second ending
When 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 any more
The world is full of singers
We don´t need any more
The world is full of lovers
We don´t need any more…