Jimmie Rodgers - Hobo bills last ride

^CHo-o-^Gbo-o ^CBilly. Riding on the ^Feastbound ^Cfreight train, ^Fspeeding through the ^Cnight, ^FHobo Bill, a ^Crailroad bum, was ^D7fighting for his ^Glife. The sad^Fness of ^Chis eyes revealed the ^Ftorture of his ^Csoul. He ^Fraised a weak and ^Cweary hand to ^Gbrush away the ^Ccoal.

^CHo-o-^Gbo-o ^CBilly. No warm lights ^Fflickered ^Caround him, no ^Fblankets there to ^Cfold, ^FNothing but the ^Chowling wind and ^D7the driving rain so ^Gcold. When he ^Fheard a ^Cwhistle blowing in a ^Fdreamy kind of ^Cway, The ^Fhobo seemed ^Ccontented, for he ^Gsmiled there where he ^Clay.

^CHo-o-^Gbo-o ^CBill. Outside the ^Frain was ^Cfalling on that ^Flonely boxcar ^Cdoor, But the ^Flittle form of ^CHobo Bill lay ^D7still upon the ^Gfloor. While the ^Ftrain sped ^Cthrough the darkness and the ^Fraging storm out^Cside, ^FNo one knew that ^CHobo Bill was ^Gtaking his last ^Cride.

^CIt was early ^Fin the ^Cmorning when they ^Fraised the hobo’s ^Chead. The ^Fsmile still lingered ^Con his face but ^D7Hobo Bill was ^Gdead. There was ^Fno mo^Cther’s longing to ^Fsoothe his weary ^Csoul, For ^Fhe was just a ^Crailroad bum who ^Gdied out in the ^Ccold.