Tim Buckley's Morning Glory

There's a few songs that for me at least have a spiritual significance and one of them is Morning Glory by Tim Buckley. Here's a video of his singing the song:

Here are the lyrics (there are some slight differences to what he actually sings):

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 house

Before he came I felt him drawing near;

As he neared I felt the ancient fear

That he had come to wound my door and jeer,

And I waited in my fleeting house

"Tell me stories, " I called to the Hobo;

"Stories of cold, " I smiled at the Hobo;

"Stories of old, " I knelt to the Hobo;

And he stood before 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 high a climb, "

And he walked away from my fleeting house

"Then you 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 house

At first sight, the lyrics may not seem to have any spiritual significance so let's look more closely. The fleeting house is a symbol of our transient physical form. As the saying goes, the eyes are windows of the soul so putting my purest candle close to my Window, hoping to catch the eye of any vagabond who passed it by means putting oneself in a very still and receptive state in the hope of making eye contact with a vagabond. A vagabond is a person who wanders from place to place without a home or job and is free of worldly ties. It serves here as a metaphor for a perfect master, a God-realised being, who has transcended duality and become one with God.

He waits and feels the vagabond drawing near but feels the ancient fear which is the threat of ego annihilation that is a necessary prelude on the path to becoming a spiritually perfect. The fear that he had come to wound my door and jeer is of course the way in which a perfect master methodically demolishes the disciple's ego. On arrival, the vagabond is referred to seven times as the Hobo and seven of course has deep mystical significance as a number of perfection. However, it is the prospective disciple that unwisely decides to set the agenda: tell me stories ... stories of cold ... stories of old.

The Hobo is not about to do this: no ... no more tales of time. Those who have attained union with God have transcended time and exist in eternity. The world of duality in which we are enmeshed however, is a world of time. Any reference to it is pointless from the spiritual point of view. Don't ask me now to wash away the grime: the grime is a reference to the karma (sanskaras) that we have accumulated over the course of our evolution and which bind us to the physical plane. Perfect masters can erase these sanskaras in an instant if they have the whim and if we are deserving of their grace.

I can't come in 'cause it's too high a climb, says the Hobo because the spiritual aspirant has put himself above the master by attempting to set the agenda. He has not shown proper humility, an essential prerequisite to spiritual progress. The perfect master, being one with God, is above everything and thus there is nowhere to climb. The master walks away from the aspirant much to the latter's annoyance, his anger demonstrating further his egotism and unsuitability for spiritual uplifting.

That's my take on it anyway.