The Art of Suicide

The art of suicide
 Nightgowns and hair
 Curls flying every which where
 The pain too pure to hide
 Bridges of sighs
 Meant to conceal lovers' 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?
 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?
 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 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