Hobo Bill’s Last Ride

HOBO BILL'S LAST RIDE
(Waldo LaFayette O'Neal)
« © '29 Peer International, BMI »

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
No one knew that Hobo Bill was taking his last ride
It was early in the morning when they raised the hobo's head
The smile still lingered on his face but Hobo Bill was dead
There was no mother's longing to soothe his weary soul
For he was just a railroad bum who died out in the cold

Похожие новости.

Нам ничего не вернуть Зря мы с тобою пытались Не первые мы на земле Кто просто так глупо расстались Будет когда-то другой Будет когда-то другая Теперь мы чужие с тобой И в этом вина не чужая. Давай расстанемся

Меня сознанье покидает Меня замучила луна И каждый день меня встречает Немая злая тишина... Сегодня боль, а завтра память Об этой ночи закричит И в темноте меня раздавит А

Роки минули, досить часу сплило, Травою батьківські стежини поросли, А на душі так любо, легко й мило Думки в дитинство босе занесли. Пригадую ласкаві теплі руки, Що ніжили й голубили чоло. А потім ще ласкали і

I'm so scared empty No colour print of me, of me, of me I'm nobody I stayed out, all night Thought it was all up with me All up with me too scared not fair You're

Sometimes I'm right and I can be wrong My own beliefs are in my song The butcher, the thinker, the drummer and then Makes no difference what group I'm in I am everyday people,