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