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 heâd been there for the whole night or more
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavinâ nobody to sing his sad song Leavinâ 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 heâd come And a fistful of coins showed the money he bummed
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavinâ nobody to sing his sad song Leavinâ 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 thatâs gone lame To lie in the gutter and die with no name?
Only a hobo, but one more is gone Leavinâ nobody to sing his sad song Leavinâ nobody to carry him home Only a hobo, but one more is gone