Last trip to the Paradise

Hey little bulb, wink, wink

Tiny creep, glow for us

To show the way and lead us

Through the grass, dry grass

Oh little gnome, wink, wink

Tiny creep, blink for us

To show the path and whisper

Through the eighteenth century

Oh, sigh, my little bulb

You died so soon…

Gnome, your spirits are dead

Ray and hope remains still…

It remains still…