Morning Glory
Blood Sweat Tears Lyrics
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Close to my window
Hoping it would catch the eye
Of any vagabond who had passed it by
And I waited in my fleeting house
Before he came
I felt him drawing near
Asked him in
That he had come to my door and jeered
And I waited in my fleeting house
Tell me stories, I called to the hobo
Stories of Cold, I smiled to the hobo
Stories of old, I knelt to the hobo
And he stood before me
In 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 hard a climb
And he walked away from my fleeting house
Then you'll 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
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
The lyrics to Blood Sweat Tears’ song Morning Glory portray a sense of despair and vulnerability as the singer tries to seek comfort from a hobo. At the beginning of the song, the singer lights a candle in hopes that it will attract any vagabond passing by. The candle represents a fragile source of hope, a light in the darkness, that the singer utilizes to seek comfort from strangers. When the singer finally encounters the hobo he invites him in and asks for stories, yearning for a sense of connection and understanding. However, the hobo dismisses his request and leaves, causing the singer to erupt with anger, fear, and frustration.
Throughout the song, the singer is subject to a deep-seated fear of abandonment and the passing of time. The phrase “fleeting house” is repeated throughout the song to suggest a sense of impermanence and transience. The fleeting house represents the fleeting nature of life itself, with the singer trying to make sense of it through his interactions with the hobo. However, the hobo, who has seen it all, refuses to engage with the singer, suggesting a sense of hopelessness and despair.
Line by Line Meaning
I lit my purest candle
I symbolically offered the best of myself to the world
Close to my window
In full view of the world
Hoping it would catch the eye
Wanting to be noticed and appreciated
Of any vagabond who had passed it by
By anyone who might not have a home yet notice the gesture
And I waited in my fleeting house
Hoping for someone to come and share my home, even if only momentarily
Before he came
In anticipation of his arrival
I felt him drawing near
I sensed his approach
Asked him in
Inviting him to come inside
I felt the ancient fear
I felt the ancient fear that often comes with inviting strangers into one's home
That he had come to my door and jeered
That he was there to mock me or cause trouble
Tell me stories, I called to the hobo
I sought to connect with him, to hear his stories and experiences
Stories of Cold, I smiled to the hobo
Even stories of hardship and challenge would be of interest and value to me
Stories of old, I knelt to the hobo
I humbly sought out his wisdom and insight, even if it came from a difficult past
And he stood before me
He took up the invitation and was willing to share with me
In my fleeting house.
In the temporary, transient space that is my home
No, said the hobo
He declined my offer to tell stories or connect with me
No more tales of time
He was done with sharing his stories and experiences
Don't ask me now to wash away the grime
He didn't want me to try to clean up or fix his difficult past or present situation
I can't come in 'cause
He couldn't stay or connect more deeply in my home
It's too hard a climb
He wasn't able or willing to make the journey of mutual understanding and change
And he walked away from my fleeting house
He left my home and my presence
Then you'll be damned
I lashed out in anger or desperation, wishing ill on him
I screamed to the hobo
I yelled out in frustration or anger
Leave me alone, I wept to the hobo
I was overcome with sadness or disappointment, wanting him to leave so I could be alone
Turn into stone, I knelt to the hobo
I was desperately wishing for something to change, wanting him to become something cold and unfeeling like stone
And he walked away from my fleeting house
He took my words and actions in stride and left me behind
I lit my purest candle
I began the cycle of offering my best to the world again
Close to my window
In full view of the world
Hoping it would catch the eye
Wanting to be noticed and appreciated
Of any vagabond who passed it by
By anyone who might not have a home yet notice the gesture
And I waited in my fleeting house
Hoping for someone to come and share my home, even if only momentarily
Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Written by: DUKE ELLINGTON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind