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Doc Watson
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Hobo Bill's Last Ride
Riding an eastbound freight train speeding through the night
He was just a lonesome hobo who was fighting for his life
The sadness in his eyes revealed the torture of his soul
As he raised a weak and weary hand to brush away the cold
Ho-obo Billy...
No warm lights flicker 'round him, no blankets there to fold
There was nothing but the howling wind and the driving rain so cold
When he heard a whistle blowing in a dreamy kind of way
And the hobo seemed contented for he smiled there where he lay
Ho-obo Billy...
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Outside the rain was falling on that lonely boxcar door
But the little form of Hobo Bill lay still upon the floor
And as the train sped through the darkness and the raging storm outside
No one knew that Hobo Bill was taking his last ride
Ho-obo Billy...
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 one near to weep for him, or soothe his weary soul
For he was just a hobo who had died out in the cold
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