Ho-o-bo-o Billy
Riding on an eastbound freight train
Speeding through the night
Hobo Bill, the railroad bum
Was fighting for his life
The sadness of his eyes revealed
The torture of his soul
He raised a weak and weary hand
To brush away the coal
Ho-o-bo-o Billy
No warm lights flickered around him
No blankets there to fold
Nothing but the howling wind
And the driving rain so cold
When he heard a whistle blowing
In a dreamy kind of way
The hobo seemed contented
For he smiled there where he lay
Ho-o-bo-o Bill
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 sped 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
The 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