G                       Cmaj7
I lit my purest candle close to my
G                       Cmaj7
Window, hoping it would catch the eye
G                    Cmaj7
Of any vagabond who passed it by,
Am                    C      G
And I waited in my fleeting house

G                          Cmaj7
Before he came I felt him drawing near;
G                       Cmaj7
As he neared I felt the ancient fear
G                            Cmaj7
That he had come to wound my door and jeer,
Am                   C        G
And I waited in my fleeting house

D                    C      Em     Cmaj7
"Tell me stories," I called to the Hobo;
D                     C     Em     Cmaj7
"Stories of cold," I smiled at the Hobo;
D                    C    Em      Cmaj7
"Stories of old," I knelt to the Hobo;
Am                      C        G
And he stood before my fleeting house

G                               Cmaj7
"No," said the Hobo, "No more tales of time;
G                       Cmaj7
Don't ask me now to wash away the grime;
G                              Cmaj7
I can't come in 'cause it's too high a climb,"
Am                         C        G
And he walked away from my fleeting house

D                        C       Em     Cmaj7
"Then you be damned!" I screamed to the Hobo;
D                    C   Em     Cmaj7
"Leave me alone," I wept to the Hobo;
D                     C    Em      Cmaj7
"Turn into stone," I knelt to the Hobo;
Am                         C        G
And he walked away from my fleeting house

D   C   Em  Cmaj7