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 |