Hobo in a box car, running out of steam
Hoping that the next town is the one seen in his dreams.
This freight train’s been like a mother, it’s kept him sheltered from the cold
Old friends are gone or buried; he just rides the rails alone.
Blow whistle, I wanna hear it one more time
Blow whistle, I wanna hear it one more time.
Cold campfires and empty bottles are all that’s left behind
Blue tattoos and hard running make today seem out of time.
Now it’s hard to keep the pace up, going round the bend
Memories are to hold on to like money is to spend.
Bury me in a box built of railway ties, cover me up with coal
Do me in with a case of gin; let the sky be my tombstone.
Whistle me up one last request, before I leave this train
Don’t talk about love or home to me, I just can’t take the pain.