MorningGlory — текст песни (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;

Dont ask me now to wash away the grime;

I cant come in cause its 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