Once upon a time, in some unimportant town,
there lived Melancholiza,
the girl who always wore a frown.
Every time—day in, day out—
as soon as she got out of bed,
she felt a funny kind of sad.

Some friends of Melancholiza’s, trying to be nice,
offered unsolicited and rather trite advice:
„Don’t listen to depressing music,
stay away from tragedy,
devote your time to something worthwhile,
and quit doing philosophy!“

Melancholiza, none the wiser, felt obliged to reciprocate:
„Your efforts I appreciate,
but please: do not commiserate.
See, I can’t help but wear a frown,
and while you folks enjoy yourselves,
myself just wants to drown.“