[00:12.960]I lit my purest candle close to my[00:19.130]Window, hoping it would catch the eye[00:24.690]Of any vagabond who passed it by,[00:31.900]And I waited in my fleeting house[00:36.570][00:37.570]Before he came I felt him drawing near;[00:43.450]As he neared I felt the ancient fear[00:49.250]That he had come to wound my door and jeer,[00:55.470]And I waited in my fleeting house[00:59.470][01:01.920]"Tell me stories," I called to the Hobo;[01:10.220]"Stories of cold," I smiled at the Hobo;[01:19.0]"Stories of old," I knelt to the Hobo;[01:28.300]And he stood before my fleeting house[01:36.300][01:37.590]"No," said the Hobo, "No more tales of time;[01:43.950]Don't ask me now to wash away the grime;[01:49.150]I can't come in 'cause it's too high a climb,"[01:55.350]And he walked away from my fleeting house[01:57.380][02:02.110]"Then you be damned!" I screamed to the Hobo;[02:10.310]"Leave me alone," I wept to the Hobo;[02:18.970]"Turn into stone," I knelt to the Hobo;[02:28.490]And he walked away from my fleeting house