Morning
Glory
(aka
Hobo) Performed
by Iain Matthews (NOTE:
Lyrics may differ slightly from those shown below) 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 "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 Tim Buckley/Larry Beckett
Tim Buckley Music ASCAP
19th Opus Music o/b/o Third Story Music, Inc. BMI Released
1994 - The Dark Ride
Watermelon Records - 1025 Running
time 3:26 |