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 houseBefore he came, I felt him drawing near
[Incomprehensible], I felt the ancient fear
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 houseI 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