Morning Glory Lyrics

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