Decameron - Morning Glory

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I lit my purest candle come to my Window hoping it would reach the eye Of any vagabond who passed it by And I waited in my feeling house Before he came I had left dancing door And as he passed I felt the ancient fear That he had come to wound my door and eat And I waited in my feeling house Did ever come I asked to see the hobo Dreams of cold I smiled at the hobo Stones of cold I smiled at the hobo As he stood before my feeling house No and the echo to most types of over Don't ask me now to watch over the game I had come at him from high a stairs And he walked away from my feeling house Then was he damned? answered the hobo Leave me alone? I wept to the hobo Run me down? I cried to the hobo And he walked away from my feeling house
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