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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