As I was out walking on a corner one day,
I spied an old hobo, in a doorway he lay.
His face was all grounded in the cold sidewalk floor

And I guess he'd been there for the whole night or more.

Only a hobo, but one more is gone

Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song
Leavin' nobody to carry him home
Only a hobo, but one more is gone


A blanket of newspaper covered his head,
As the curb was his pillow, the street was his bed.

One look at his face showed the hard road he'd come
And a fistful of coins showed the money he bummed.


Only a hobo, but one more is gone
Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song
Leavin' nobody to carry him home

Only a hobo, but one more is gone

Does it take much of a man to see his whole life go down,

To look up on the world from a hole in the ground,
To wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame,
To lie in the gutter and die with no name?


Only a hobo, but one more is gone
Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song

Leavin' nobody to carry him home
Only a hobo, but one more is gone