Morning 
Glory - Live in London (Also known as The Hobo)
  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 old," I smiled 
at the Hobo; "Stories of cold," I wept to the Hobo; And I waited 
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 it's just too high a climb," And he stood before 
my fleeting house  "Then 
you be damned!" I screamed to the Hobo; "Turn into stone ," 
I wept to the Hobo; "Leave me alone," I knelt to the Hobo; And 
he walked away from my fleeting house Tim 
Buckley/Larry Beckett Tim 
Buckley Music ASCAP/Third Story Music BMI Released 
1990 Enigma Retro/Bizarre Records   Dream Letter: Live in London 1968 Running 
time 3:43  |