Lyrics are added below
"On a sad Sunday with a hundred white flowers
I was waiting for you, my dear, with a church prayer
That dream-chasing Sunday morning
The chariot of my sadness returned without you.
Ever since then, Sundays are always sad
Tears are my drink, and sorrow is my bread.
Sad Sunday.
Last Sunday, my dear, please come along,
There will even be priest, coffin, catafalque, hearse-cloth.
Even then flowers will be awaiting you, flowers and coffin.
Under blossoming (flowering in Hungarian) trees
My journey shall be the last.
My eyes will be open, so that I can see you one more time
Do not be afraid of my eyes as I am blessing you even in my death.
Last Sunday."
