His heart is heavy,
His mind,clouded,
By fate's decree,
and unfortunate reality,
hundreds of shadows surrounds,
yet his soul feel so alone,
for the hearts that had cared are in the ground,
and the souls that had felt are now gone,
they no longer play a part in his song,
their bodies abode 'neath the stones,
the stones of his morning mourns.

On the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge,
playing Gloomy Sunday on a moody Monday,
No longer wish to feel alone,
Just wanted to feel at home,
Death saw how he was scared,
but Death still waited,
For Death knew,
He was much scared of being alone,
He realised that time won't mend,
He knew he was no longer strong,
So the last melody is played,
And he let himself fall,
7 feet deep yet he's no longer scared,
For he and his heart has ended it all.