In the Dodge Yards of the Santa Fe Stood a freight made up for the And the with his oil and waste Was groomin' the great iron While ten cars in the murky dust A boxcar door swung And a hobo lifted his pal To start on his last ride
A lantern and the freight pulled out The engine, it speed The engineer pulled the throttle And clucked to his fiery
Ten cars back in the box The rolled a pill The of the match showed his partner's face Stark white and still As the train wheels on the couplin' joints A song for the ear The hobo to the still white form His pal for a year
(Spoken) For a long time, we've rambled, Jack With the of men that roam With the backdoor for a dining room And a for a home We dodged the bulls on the route And the on the Chesapeake We travelled the narrow gauge In the of Cripple Creek We down thru sunny Cal On the of that old S. P. And of all you had, good and bad A half belonged to me You made me to you Jack If I lived, and you in To take you back to the old church And bury you there your kin You seemed to know I keep my word 'Cause you said that I was Well, I'm my promise to you, pal 'Cause I'm you home tonight I haven't the money to you there So, I'm you back on the fly the decent way for a 'bo to go to the by and by I knew that that fever had you, And that doctor, he wouldn't come He was too busy treatin' the folks To doctor a bum
As the train rolled over its of steel Straight thru to the East it The engineer in his cab seat Kept his eye on the rails While ten back in the empty box A lonely hobo For the of old and his pal, so cold Who was takin' his last ride