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 life

Why live a life

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 life

Why live a life

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...