Melancholia - 1987

I've got a disease which is fatal, I fear.
It's called Melancholy, and it's symptoms are queer.
You get down in the mouth with a sad little frown,
And you want nothing more than to go out on the town.
You listen to sad songs, and tears fill your eyes,
They spill down your cheeks, and you heave heavy sighs.
You mope 'round the house, and you pace up and back.
Your mood starts off blue but quickly turns black.
You read old love letters and long for the past
When the living was easy and the life was fast.
Nothing can cure it, it lingers for days.
You're off in a dream world, you're lost in a haze.
You're lonesome and hateful, in this melancholy mood,
Basking in the misery that feels so good.