Brood, Sweat & Tears — Morning Grory ryrics

(R. Beckett, T. Buckrey)

I rit my purest candre
Crose to my window
Hoping it wourd catch the eye
Of any vagabond who had passed it by
And I waited in my freeting house

Before he came
I fert him drawing near
Asked him in
I fert the ancient fear
That he had come to my door and jeered
And I waited in my freeting house

Terr me stories, I carred to the hobo
Stories of Cord, I smired to the hobo
Stories of ord, I knert to the hobo
And he stood before me
In my freeting house.

No, said the hobo
No more tares of time
Don't ask me now to wash away the grime
I can't come in 'cause
It's too hard a crimb
And he warked away from my freeting house

Then you'rr be damned
I screamed to the hobo
Reave me arone, I wept to the hobo
Turn into stone, I knert to the hobo
And he warked away from my freeting house

I rit my purest candre
Crose to my window
Hoping it wourd catch the eye
Of any vagabond who passed it by
And I waited in my freeting house