WARNING. LISTEN AT OWN RISK. No. 18
My husband’s playing the piano. He’s been doing that a lot lately. I’m sitting and listening. He stops and says—
“Are there songs that are too devastating to include among your Songs of Devastation? You know, dangerously devastating? ”
“Maybe. What are you thinking of?”
“A Billie Holiday song,” he says.
“’Gloomy Sunday’?”
“Yeah.”
“I think it is all right to include it. But I feel it should be said that even though there are times when things seem so dark and hopeless and that there is no way out—there always is—even if it is just small baby steps toward an improvement in one’s predicament.”
“Exactly,” says my husband.
“Shall we put Gloomy Sunday up on Stuff?”
“Okay. But let those Vampire’s Wifers know to listen with caution! It’s a dangerous song.”
“Keep playing, babe, I like it.”
And he’s off again.
Gloomy Sunday
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
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be prayers
And candles are lit, 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 blessing you
Gloomy Sunday
Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep
On deep in my heart, dear
Darling, I hope
That my dream hasn't haunted you
My heart is telling you
How much I wanted you
Gloomy Sunday
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