Riding on that eastbound freight train
Speeding through 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
Hobo Bill Hobo Bill
Outside the rain was falling on
That lonely boxcar door
But the little form of Hobo Bill lay
Still upon the floor
There was no mother's longing
To soothe his weary soul
For he was just a railroad bum
Who died out in the cold
Hobo Bill
Hobo Bill - Merle Haggard