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?