I

had

a

friend

who

kept

a

cand-

le

in

his

poc-

ket,

He

used

to

touch

it

when

the

wind

was

blow-

ing

high,

I

guess

it

made

him

feel

like

he

could

buck

the

sys-

tem

And

when

it

flic-

kered

out,

we

laid

him

down

to

die.

Turn

on

the

light,

Turn

on

a

mil-

lion

blin-

ding

brill-

iant

white

in-

cen-

di-

a-

ry

lights,

Yeah,

a

bea-

con

in

the

night,

I'll

burn

re-

lent-

les-

sly

un-

til

my

juice

runs

dry.

And

I'll

con-

struct

a

rock

of

tem-

pered

beams

and

trus-

ses

And

e-

quip

with

just

a

mil-

lion

ti-

ny

suns,

I'll

in-

stall

up-

on

the

roof

of

my

com-

part-

ment

And

place

tin-

fo-

il

on

my

floor

and

on

my

walls.

And

I'll

turn

on

the

light,

Turn

on

a

mil-

lion

blin-

ding

brill-

iant

white

in-

cen-

di-

a-

ry

lights,

A

bea-

con

in

the

night,

I'll

burn

re-

lent-

les-

sly

un-

til

my

juice

runs

dry.-

Sic

go!

And

I'll

burn

like

a

ro-

man

fuc-

king

cand-

le,

Burn like

a

chas-

m

in

the

night,

Burn for

a

mi-

ni-

scule

du-

ra-

tion,

ec-

sta-

tic

im-

mo-

la-

tion,

In-

cor-

rigib-

le

de-

light