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Gone, just as lonely as before
There's his smoke against the ceiling
And his ashes on the floor
Gone golden genie in the blaze of a thousand sorries
Ashes and smoke are all that's staying
They'll soon be going
With the sad winds blowin'

Dark, strike a match and light a candle
Candles always look so hopeful
But it's more than I can handle

Dark, strike a match and light a candle
Candles always look so hopeful
But it's more than I can handle
Cry for a river from the sun
It's just as easy
Flame on the candle's almost done
It'll soon be going
With the sad winds blowin'

Times, just a senseless lot of ticking
She's the master of our people

Ah, if that's good enough for you, I don't know?

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