Merle Haggard - Hobo Bill's Last Ride

Ho-bo Bill-y
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
Ho-bo Bill
No warm lights flickered round him no blankets there to hold
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
Ho-bo Bill
Outside the rain was falling on that lonely boxcar door
But the little form of Hobo Bill lay still upon the floor
While the train sped through the darkness and the raging storm outside