Morning Glory
Buckley (Tim) Lyrics
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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,
"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
The lyrics to "Morning Glory" by Tim Buckley tell a story about a person who is waiting in their house with a candle lit in the window, hoping to attract the attention of any vagabond who may pass by. When a Hobo finally approached the house, the singer felt a sense of ancient fear, fearing that the Hobo had come to harm them. The singer requested that the Hobo tell them stories of old, but the Hobo declined, saying that he cannot come in because it's too high of a climb. The singer responds with anger and frustration, yelling at the Hobo and ultimately begging him to turn to stone and leave them alone.
The song's lyrics can be interpreted in several different ways. One interpretation is that the Hobo represents the singer's inner demons, and the fleeting house represents the short-lived emotions and thoughts that the singer has. The singer is desperately seeking someone to help them wash away their past and the grime that has accumulated from it, but the Hobo is unable or unwilling to help. With frustration mounting, the singer ultimately gives up on finding a solution.
Line by Line Meaning
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
In a fleeting moment of hope, I kindled a candle by the window, hoping to draw the attention of a wandering soul, to soothe my loneliness, and lessen my despair temporarily.
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
As my mind tried to defeat the fear and the anxiety of loneliness, I sensed that the Hobo had approached my house, and I was afraid that he would cause harm and mock me in this brief moment of solace.
"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
In my desperation, I begged the Hobo to share his life stories, offering a friendly smile and a warm welcome, hoping to ease my lonely heart, but in reality, I was trying to escape my own story.
"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
The Hobo refused to take part in the futile attempt to hide from the truth by painting a picture of a different reality, acknowledging that his tales could not wash away the grime and that he cannot enter the house since it is too high above reality, and thus, he walked away from the 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
As the Hobo left, I realized that the words I spoke in anger and despair reflected the emptiness I felt, and that the Hobo was only a mirage of comfort, whose absence acted as a vivid reminder of the reality I was trying to escape.
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Larry Beckett, Tim Buckley
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@Cinnamombunz
This is one of those songs that stopped me dead in my tracks the first time I heard it. I was in a music store in Houston (probably summer of '69) and they were playing it. I don't think I took a breath until it was over, then went up and asked who it was. At the time I had almost no money and nothing on which to play a record, but I bought it anyhow. The man was a genius. Sad loss.
@RobinASmith138
Me too, when I first heard this it captured my attention and I was instantly in love with this song and then started to listen to other songs of Tim, and then I was hooked. But this was the first song…
@federicoridolfi3282
❤
@Luiz-pt2bf
💩
@user-tb6sm4jg4d
Homeless people can be difficult, but man it must be hard for them. Thank you, Tim Buckley, for helping us to reflect and be introspective about those of us who, for whatever reason, must be without a home, sometimes for the rest of their lives.
@ikramreffas4308
Tim Buckley was one of the most underrated singer ... just a great and pure artist .
@garyrouyea8314
He kills me, man...maybe not the best but it doesn't get better
@FilippoBombonato
Absolutely true
@bartonim
People didn't really listen to him until after his premature death. The This Mortal Coil projects introduced, through covers of his songs, his music to a whole new generation.
@andrewolivera579
Both him and his kid Jeff, just different breeds