In the City Yards of the Santa Fe a freight made up for the east And the engineer with his oil and Was groomin' the iron beast While ten cars in the murky dust A boxcar door wide And a hobo lifted his pal To on his last long ride
A lantern swung and the pulled out The engine, it gathered The pulled the throttle wide And clucked to his fiery
Ten cars back in the box The hobo rolled a The flare of the match showed his partner's Stark white and still As the wheels clicked on the couplin' joints A for the rambler's ear The hobo talked to the white form His pal for a year
(Spoken) For a mighty time, we've rambled, Jack With the luck of men that With the backdoor steps for a dining And a for a home We dodged the bulls on the Eastern And the cops on the We travelled the Leadville gauge In the days of Cripple We drifted thru sunny Cal On the of that old S. P. And of all you had, thru and bad A half belonged to me You made me promise to you If I lived, and you in To you back to the old church yard And you there with your kin You seemed to know I would my word 'Cause you said I was right Well, I'm my promise to you, pal 'Cause I'm takin' you home I haven't the to send you there So, I'm you back on the fly It's the way for a 'bo to go to the by and by I knew that fever had you, Jack And doctor, he just wouldn't come He was too busy treatin' the wealthy To doctor a bum
As the train rolled over its ribbons of Straight thru to the it sped The engineer in his cab seat Kept his eye on the ahead While ten cars back in the box A hobo sighed For the days of old and his pal, so Who was takin' his last long