Hobo Bill
Jimmy Rogers

(C)Ho-(G)bo (C)Billy

(C)Ridin’ on an (F)East bound (C)freight train, (F)speedin through the (C)night
(F)Hobo Bill, a (C)railroad bum, was (Dfightin’ for his (G7)life
The (C)sadness of his eyes revealed the (F)torture of his (C)soul
He (F)raised a weak and (C)weary hand to (G7)brush away the (C)coal

(C)Ho-(G7)bo (C)Billy

No one lies flicker around him, no blankets there to fold
Nothin’ but the howlin’ wind and the drivin’ lane so cold
When he heard a whistle blowin’ in a dreamy kind of way
The hobos seem contented for he smiled there where he lay

Outside the rain was falling on that lonely boxcar door
But the little form of Hobo Bill lay still upon the floor
While the train is through the darkness and the raging storm outside
No one knew that hobo Bill was taking his last ride

It was early in the morning when they raised the hobo’s head
A smile still lingered on his face but Hobo Bill was dead
There was no mother’s longing to soothe his weary soul
For he was just a railroad bum who died out in the cold



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