Spoken by Irene:

Every night would find him on the corner of our street
A ragged old man with barely covered feet
He hardly made a living with his matches on a tray
And no-one ever saw him around there of a day

I remember how I would cry to see his worn old cheeks
And often it would worry me, how did he make ends meet
II often slipped out quietly, armed with bread and cheese
His toothless grin would greet me and I knew that he was pleased

In summer I didn't worry for the weather wasn't bad
But when the snow and sleet arrived I then felt very sad
He gladly took an overcoat I found in our old shed
I asked him, "Are you warm now?", he proudly dipped his head

I grew to love this old man, with many a tale to tell
And in my heart I knew, he was fond of me as well
He saw me reach my manhood, just what I had waited for
To get my chance at helping him, to stop him being poor

I found a little room that we two could share
It made me really happy to see him without a care
We spent our evenings talking and sometimes we would sing
I know that in his heart he was as happy as a king

Then suddenly he left me, he died without a sound
I thank God it was with me and not out there on the ground
A tribute to the matchbox man, the best friend I ever had
I shall always remember you, how your passing made me sad

So farewell, my dear friend, until we again shall meet
I hope in better places than on the corner of our street