Morning Glory

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 d**ned 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