Morning - Glory Lyrics - Tim Buckley

I lit my purest candle close to my 

Window, hoping it would catch the eye 

Of any vagabond who passed it by, 

And I waited in my fleeting house 

Before he came I felt him drawing near; 

As he neared I felt the ancient fear 

That he had come to wound my door and jeer, 

And I waited in my fleeting house 

"Tell me stories," I called to the Hobo; 

"Stories of cold," I smiled at the Hobo; 

"Stories of old," I knelt to the Hobo; 

And he stood before my fleeting house 

"No," said the Hobo, "No more tales of time; 

Don't ask me now to wash away the grime; 

I can't come in 'cause it's too high a climb," 

And he walked away from my fleeting house 

Related 

23 One Hit Wonders You Still Can't Get Out Of Your Head 

Linkin Park Honors Chester Bennington In The Emotional Video For 'One More Light' 

Watch Beck's Heroic New Music Video For 'Up All Night' 

"Then you be damned!" I screamed to the Hobo; 

"Leave me alone," I wept to the Hobo; 

"Turn into stone," I knelt to the Hobo; 

And he walked away from my fleeting house 

Photos