In the Dodge City yards of the Santa Fe
Stood a freight made up for the east
And the engineer with his oil and waste
Was groomin' the great iron beast
While ten cars back in the murky dust
A box-car door swung wide
And a hobo lifted his pal aboard
To start on his last long ride
A lantern swung and the freight pulled out
The engine, it gathered speed
The engineer pulled the throttle wide
And clucked to his fiery steed
Ten cars back in the empty box
The hobo rolled a pill
The flare of the match showed his partners' face
Stark white and deathly still
As the train wheels clicked on the couplin' joints
A song for the rambler's ear
The hobo talked to the still white form
His pal for many a year
For a mighty long time, we've rambled, Jack
With the luck of men that roam
With the back door steps for a dining room
And the box-car for a home
We dodged the bulls on the eastern route
And the cops on the Chesapeake
We traveled the Leadville narrow gauge
In the days of Cripple Creek
We drifted down through sunny Cal
On the rails of the old SP
And of all you had, through good and bad
A half always belong to me
You made me promise to you, Jack
If I lived and you cashed in
To take you back to the old churchyard
And bury you there with your kin
You seemed to know I would keep my word
For you said that I was wild
Well, I'm keepin' my promise to you, pal
'Cause I'm takin' you home tonight
I hadn't the money to send you there
So, I'm takin' you back on the fly
It's the decent way for a 'bo to go
Home to the by and by
I knew that fever had you, Jack
And that doctor just wouldn't come
He was too busy treatin' the wealthy folks
To doctor a worn out bum
As the train rolled over its ribbon of steel
Straight through to the east, it sped
The engineer in his high cab seat
Kept his eye on the rails ahead
While ten cars back in the empty box
The lonely hobo sighed
For the days of old and his pal so cold
Was taking his last long ride