Seven Matches

She gave me matches
Seven little, wooden matches
She put them into a small, slim, glass jar
With a screw-top lid
I fingered that jar
I put it in my pocket
She said 'can't go in the woods without them'
I smiled and her and left
And I kept them dry
And as long as there were six
I'd be fine
As long as there were five
Matches in that jar

Mile after mile
Oh, the chk-chk-chk-chk sound of the matches
Oh, the memory of her smile

I kept them dry
And as long as there were five
I'd be fine
As long as there were four
Matches in a jar
With a screw-top lid
I know she did not mean to hurt my feelings
But that's what she did

I kept them dry
And as long as there were three
I'd be fine
As long as there were two
Matches in a jar