Some ask their neighbours to
Turn on the lamps, then you know
It must be Friday night
When I was much younger
Earth new no fire, new no light
False gods had stolen it
So I dug my hole
And descended into Dante´s dark worlds
There I scooped up flames
Like Prometheus I burned myself
And gave the candlesticks to the halflings
They secure the worldly lights
So when I use the switch
On the last day of the week
He laughs and blesses me
That´s how I light
My lamps with joy and with bliss
For He smiles at illuminators
©
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