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.
Gloomy sunday.

Gloomy is sunday,
With shadows I spend it all.
My heart and I, have
Decided to end it all.

Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are said, 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 blessin' you.

Gloomy sunday.
Gloomy sunday.