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
is 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 so sad,
I know.
Let them not weep.
Let them know that I'm so glad
to go.
Death
is no dream,
for in death I'm caressing you.
With the last breath of my soul,
I'll be blessing you.
Gloomy is Sunday.
Dreaming, I was only dreaming.
I awake and I find you asleep
in the deep
of my heart,
dear.
Dreaming,
it was so lonely dreaming.
I felt my heart melt
when I dreamt
that we two were apart.
Far apart.
Far apart.
So far apart.
My darling,
I hope that my