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Tim Buckley
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Morning Glory - Remastered
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 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 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
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