I have a lantern.
I turned it into a rocket for the sky,
illuminating the ground in which I play.

But my mother told me to put it away,
led me to my room and made me a bed to lay.

I have a firefly, tied to a string.
I led into the sky.
Casting out silver light onto the beds in which we slumber.

But my mother told me to put it away.

I killed the firefly,
I lead him into the lantern in the sky.

Oh mother what have I done?