Stephin Merritt - The Little Matchstick Girl
So she lights another match, but soon the spark is gone
so she lights another match and lives on.
And she sees a stove of brass.
How warm its fire burns!
But the match goes out.
Alas, cold returns.
So she lights another flame
and sees a table strewn with dried fruit and meat and game, bright as noon.
Then, more splendid to behold, the goose hops from the plate and walks forth--
and then it's cold, dark, and late.
And another tiny light...
She sees a Christmas tree all lit up with colors bright and pretty.
Then the Christmas lights rise higher.
"A falling star!" she sighs.
Then there is no other fire, and she dies.
Letras Stephin Merritt