Morning Glory lyrics

(L. Beckett, T. Buckley)

I lit my purest candle

close to my window

hoping it would catch the eye

of any vagabond who had passed it by

and I waited in my fleeting house



Before he came

I felt him drawing near

Asked him in

I felt the ancient fear

that he had come to my door and jeered

and I waited in my fleeting house



Tell me stories, I called to the hobo

Stories of Cold, I smiled to the hobo

Stories of old, I knelt to the hobo

and he stood before me

in 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 hard a climb

and he walked away from my fleeting house



Then you`ll 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



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
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