A match the Chandler picked, He picked
The match her gently flicked, He flicked
Unto unto the candle wick
Reaching from the candlestick

He placed it on a caucer caucer
And the Flame looked at him crosser crosser
Fatigued fatigued He sat
And a Troubling sleep he then begat
His grip on the caucer waned and waned
Flaming, Flaming the Candle remained

The Candle Candle began to glide
The Candle Candle began to slide
On the caucer
With a glow
Shifting shifting to and fro

The evil, wicked wick
Omitted a smoke that made hin sick
And so her tossed and turned
While the wick and waxes burned
And fell upon his Feet
He sprang up from his seat
And there she lay
The Candle smoking smoking