Riding On An East-bound Freight Train, Speeding Thru The Night

Hobo Bill, A 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 Cold.



YODEL: Ho-ho-o Bo-o-o Bil-lie!



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.



YODEL: Ho-ho-o Bo-o-o Bil-lie!



Outside The Rain Was Fallin' On That Lonesome Boxcar Door

But The Little Form Of Hobo Bill Lay Still Upon The Floor...

As The Train Sped Thru The Darkness And The Raging Storm Outside

No One Knew That Hobo Bill Was Taking His Last Ride.



TRAIN WHISTLE



It Was Early In The Mornin' When They Raised The Hobo's Head

The Smile Still Lingered On His Face, But Hobo Bill Was Dead ...

There Was No Mother's Longin', To Soothe His Weary Soul

For He Was Just A Railroad Bum, Who Died Out In The Cold.



TRAIN WHISTLE Fade