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?