Gloomy Sunday
Dark Sunday
Arms full of flowers
I entered our room
With a weary heart because I already knew  
That you wouldn't come back
And I threw out words
Of love and pain
I stayed all alone like
A poor bastard
And I cried quietly
Listening to howl
The complaint of the frost
Gloomy Sunday
I will die on a Sunday
Where I would have suffered too much
Then you will come back
But I will be gone
Virgins will burn
Like an ardent hope
And for you without effort
My eyes will be open
Do not be afraid my love
If they cannot see you
They will tell you that
I loved you more than my life
Gloomy Sunday
I will die on a Sunday
Where I would have suffered too much
Then you will come back
br/>But I will be gone
Virgins will burn
Like an ardent hope
And for you without effort
My eyes will be opened
Don't worry don't be afraid my love
If they can't see you
They will tell you that
I loved you more than my life
Gloomy Sunday

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN