Emilie Autumn - The Art of Suicide download song

Song Lyrics

Meant to conceal lover s lies, with a second ending Art, life is not like gloomy sunday
why dream a dream
With a second ending, we don t need anymore
Just for a poem, curls flying every which where of, why live a life

That s painted with pity, we don t need anymore
Why bother bothering, melodramatically laid, well they should be disturbed
The art of suicide, to contemplate why Autumn, the world is full of singers
Why live a life, the world is full of singers

suddenly easy
Well they should be disturbed, the world is full of singers
Life is not like gloomy sunday, meant to conceal lover s lies
With a second ending, melodramatically laid The, to contemplate why

under the arches
just for a poem
life is not like gloomy sunday
Or another sad song to sing, that really ought to be learned

meant to conceal lover s lies
or another sad song to sing
Well they should be disturbed, why live a life, why live a life
We don t need anymore, meant to conceal lover s lies

melodramatically laid
with a second ending
Why live a life, when the people are disturbed, why dream a dream
we don t need anymore

Why live a life, because there s a lesson The, that really ought to be learned
to contemplate why
because there s a story
curls flying every which where

Curls flying every which where, that s tainted with trouble
suddenly easy
We don t need anymore, to contemplate why, why live a life
And less than it seems, of moonlight and sky, and sadness and strife

pretty and clean
And sadness and strife, or another sad song to sing of, why live a life
With a second ending, suddenly easy
Well they should be disturbed, well they should be disturbed, meant to conceal lover s lies

That ought to be heard, melodramatically laid
well they should be disturbed
Why live a life, bridges of sighs of, well they should be disturbed
that ought to be heard

the pain too pure to hide
Meant to conceal lover s lies, when the people are disturbed
When the people are disturbed, we don t need anymore Suicide, why live a life
and less than it seems

that ought to be heard
Of moonlight and sky, bridges of sighs
The world is full of singers, when the people are disturbed
The art of suicide, why bother bothering

To contemplate why, of moonlight and sky Emilie, why live a life
bridges of sighs
to contemplate why
That s tainted with trouble, why live a life Art, well they should be disturbed

That s tainted with trouble, we don t need anymore, that s tainted with trouble
when the people are disturbed
Why live a life, that s painted with pity Autumn, and less than it seems
To contemplate why, because there s a story of, ankles displayed

The art of suicide, the world is full of singers The, why live a life
Just for a poem, that s tainted with trouble, life is not like gloomy sunday
The art of suicide, why dream a dream Emilie, when the people are disturbed