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
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |