The Last Ride Hank Snow

In the Dodge City yards of the Sante 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 ramblers' ears
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 boxcar for a home;