The art of suicide, nightgowns and hair    Curls flying every which-way    The fate too pure to hide    Ridges of size    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 lie    Why live a lie       The art of suicide, gritty and clean    Conveys a theatrical scene    Alas, I've gone she cried    Veins 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       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    Why live a lie    Why live a lie       Life is not like a gloomy Sunday    With a second ending where 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 where 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