Light a match, but the cold never stops hurting,
She'll never stop yearning for something better
She'll never be sorry, they sure didn't ever
Give a damn for poor little matchgirl
Mr Scatch is waiting, he pays her well
She sells them her secrets and won't ever tell
Better than the cold, better than the cold
Better vengence than pity and being alone
How's a girl s'posed to live?
There's no business in matches
How's a girl s'posed to eat when bread isn't free?
Though they look their noses down, they're not better
Though they look their noses down, they're not better
They want her to be, their object of pity
They want her to die, so they can feel "sorry"
They think that their "empathy" makes them better
They only start caring once it doesn't matter