This Mortal Coil - 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
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