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It all started almost a hundred years ago from the former country of Hungary, the home of a very undeniable song, only two stanzas, and smooth instrumental melody within. The lyrics were about an almost miserable man, waiting for what I guess his lovely bride while holding 100 red roses. The girl never came. And I really think she really won't bother. The real thrill is that, the short song had forced many people to suicide, thus claiming lots of what were once "innocent" lives. A song that short, can KILL? The first case is yet to be known, but this one is highly prioritized. —Rezső Seress

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  • Lively Music
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  • It all started almost a hundred years ago from the former country of Hungary, the home of a very undeniable song, only two stanzas, and smooth instrumental melody within. The lyrics were about an almost miserable man, waiting for what I guess his lovely bride while holding 100 red roses. The girl never came. And I really think she really won't bother. The real thrill is that, the short song had forced many people to suicide, thus claiming lots of what were once "innocent" lives. A song that short, can KILL? The first case is yet to be known, but this one is highly prioritized. —Rezső Seress
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  • It all started almost a hundred years ago from the former country of Hungary, the home of a very undeniable song, only two stanzas, and smooth instrumental melody within. The lyrics were about an almost miserable man, waiting for what I guess his lovely bride while holding 100 red roses. The girl never came. And I really think she really won't bother. The real thrill is that, the short song had forced many people to suicide, thus claiming lots of what were once "innocent" lives. A song that short, can KILL? The song was composed and published by a Hungarian man named Rezső Seress, pianist, singer and composer, may he requiescat in PACE. Whatever the meaning of those three words, you might not want to know. Continuing on, the song was entitled as "End of the World", but as the song was recomposed by other composers, it was renamed "Gloomy Sunday". A great name for a song isn't it? It is very, very catchy. It was first created as a poem by Rezső's friend László Jávor, who is, not very hard to guess, a poet. The poem was for his ex-girlfriend, and you might as well never want to know why. That is quiet the origin of the song and it seems very simple. Simple it is, until you see the suicide cases all because of the prime suspect "Gloomy Sunday: The Hungarian Suicide Song". The first case is yet to be known, but this one is highly prioritized. The suicide of the composer itself: Rezső Seress. It is quiet moving, for a man in humane sanity jumped from a window from his small apartment shortly after his 69th birthday. The problem was that, he didn't die, and woke up soon in a hospital. Being very unsatisfied, he choked himself with the electrical wire of an electric fan beside his bed. Well, at last, he died. He was that desperate. Imagine yourself, getting that lonely. "This is it! I can't take it anymore! All I have to do now is jump!" And then you found yourself still alive, in a hospital bed. "Why am I still alive? Take me you worthless demon, just take me!" While saying those words, you are tying a random electrical wire you just found lying in the floor very hard around your neck. Well, to disrupt the thrill, they say it was Rezső's historical background that pushed him to do the act. They say he survived Nazi forced labor, but his mother didn’t make it. After the "Gloomy Sunday" song he created, he wasn't able to create another hit. And lastly, the cruelty of this world became unbearable to him, and added to his depression. All of this might really be the cause of his suicide. Or maybe the song itself that he brought to this cruel, cruel, world. To add more information, here are more cases of suicides believed to be caused by "Gloomy Sunday". A drunk man brought by his friend to a concert, shot the vocalist of the band who held the concert after singing "Gloomy Sunday", and finally shot himself too with his own gun. László's ex-girlfriend read only the lyrics of the song and probably hummed the tune while reading, committed suicide right after leaving a note with the words "GLOOMY SUNDAY" in it. In Rome, an errand boy heard a beggar humming the tune, got off his bike, gave the beggar all his money and jumped from the nearest bridge. Within of a week hearing the song a typist had gassed herself, requesting 'Gloomy Sunday' be played at her funeral. Two maids heard the tune over the radio while walking down the hallway. Immediately, they both hanged themselves using their master's curtains. Now, imagine once again. Two people committed suicide at the same place, at the same godforsaken time. Would you do that with someone? Mostly after that, in one year alone in Hungary seventeen suicides were found with notes quoting the 'Gloomy Sunday' lyrics. And now, at this moment, many, many more. No one knows how the song was able by itself to force people to kill themselves, even now. Is it just the depression brought by the recently finished World War II? Or the melody of the song can really be very lonesome? They tried it once, you know, to remove the lyrics of the song and make it remain in public. But then an old woman played the tune repeatedly loud inside her house, shocking her neighbors. Doors were banged, the police was called, and her house was broken through. The police got inside, only to find her lifeless, died of an overdose. The tune was that strong enough. Now it is banned, banned for the sake of humanity. And as always, there is one thing for sure. László Jávor, the original lyric creator, had very little information over the internet. Chances are he did not die of suicide. Maybe his death was natural. Not like his friend, Rezső Seress, who weren't able to foresee such a lyrical tragedy. Maybe László, is the real man behind all of this, after all. Maybe he was the only man behind this monstrosity. Whether you will believe it or not just like supernatural beings, a word of advice is left here. Don't be too scared in everything you see, it is what you hear that will probably kill you after all. Take care, my old friend, take care. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ —Rezső Seress
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