Tim Buckley
Hobo
[Verse 1]
I lit my purest candle close to my
Window, hoping it would catch the eye
Of any vagabond that passed it by
And I waited in my lonely house

[Verse 2]
Before he came I felt him drawing near
And as he neared I felt the ancient fear
That he had come to my door and jeer
And I waited in my fleeting house

[Verse 3]
"Tell me stories," I called to the hobo
"Stories of old," I smiled to the hobo
"Stories of cold," I wept to the hobo
As he stood before my fleeting house

[Verse 4]
"No," said the hobo, "No more tales of time
Don't ask me now to wash away the grime
I can't come in for it's too high a climb"
And he walked away from my lonely house

[Verse 5]
"Then you be damned," I screamed to the hobo
"Turn into stone," I cried to the hobo
"Leave me alone," I knelt to the hobo
And he walked away from my fleeting house
[Verse 6]
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