Out in the woods she lived all alone.
Half penny there for a match she could sell for a full penny here.
A crust of bread, no shoes, or pillow for her head.

Out in the streets she begged all alone.
Soft dreams fade out, hard dreams stay true,
so, what could she do...
her toes, her legs, her arms and fingers blue.

Nobody's there for her in the cold dark night.
The first match burnt bright, with no wood or sight
of color in her face.
A fantasy, a tree, the love of her life.

Cold and blue, a star falls like the snowflakes in her hair.
Hopeless now she dies and lies so still,
and she'll never know what she
is capable of making and breaking
cause there will be no tomorrow
there will be no tomorrow

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