Morning Glory
Tim Buckley
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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 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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Written by: DUKE ELLINGTON
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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"Morning Glory Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/34118671/Tim+Buckley/Morning+Glory>.
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