Here she lies
On the cold, hard ground
Crying to the wind
Trying to make a sound
"Matches to light, if you've got a penny to spare"
A bundle of rags is what she is
Completely threadbare
The windows are aglow
With incandescent light
The townsfolk in merriment of Christmas night
"Matches to light, if you've got a penny to spare"
There's no one outside
To neither hear nor care
She lights a match for herself
In defeat
The match flickers and dies
Like the light from her eyes
"Matches to light, if you've got a penny to spare"
Her whispers stir
The chilly winter air