As I was out walking on a corner one day, I spied an old hobo, in a doorway he lay. His face was all grounded in the cold sidewalk floor And I guess he'd been there for the whole night or more.
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home Only a hobo, but one more is gone
A blanket of newspaper covered his head, As the curb was his pillow, the street was his bed. One look at his face showed the hard road he'd come And a fistful of coins showed the money he bummed.
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home Only a hobo, but one more is gone
Does it take much of a man to see his whole life go down, To look up on the world from a hole in the ground, To wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame, To lie in the gutter and die with no name?
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home Only a hobo, but one more is gone