Текст песни Tim Buckley - MorningGlory
Tim Buckley - MorningGlory слова песни
I lit my purest candle close to myWindow, hoping it would catch the eyeOf any vagabond who passed it by,And I waited in my fleeting houseBefore he came I felt him drawing near;As he neared I felt the ancient fearThat he had come to wound my door and jeer,And I waited in my fleeting housetell 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 houseno, 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 housethen 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