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In the Dodge City yards of the Sante FeStood a freight made up for the eastAnd the engineer with his oil and wasteWas groomin' the great iron beast;While ten cars back in the murky dustA box-car door swung wideAnd a hobo lifted his pal aboardTo start on his last, long ride;A lantern swung and the freight pulled outThe engine it gathered speedThe engineer pulled the throttle wideAnd clucked to his fiery steed;Ten cars back in the empty boxThe hobo rolled a pillThe flare of the match showed his partners' faceStark white and deathly still;As the train wheels clicked on the couplin' jointsA song for the ramblers' earsThe hobo talked to the still, white formHis pal for many a year;For a mighty long time we've rambled, JackLetras de cancionesWith the luck of men that roamWith the back door steps for a dining roomAnd the boxcar for a home;We dodged the bulls on the eastern routeAnd the cops on the ChesapeakeWe traveled the Leadville Narrow GaugeIn the days of Cripple Creek; We drifted down through sunny CalOn the rails of the old S. P.And of all you had, through good and badA half always belonged to me; You made me promise to you, JackIf I lived and you cashed inTo take you back to the old churchyardAnd bury you there with your kin;You seemed to know I would keep my wordFor you said that I was wiseWell, I'm keepin my promise to you, palCause I'm takin' you home tonight;I hadn't the money to send you thereSo I'm takin' you back on the 'fly'It's the decent way for a Bo to goHome to the by and by; I knew that fever had you, JackAnd that doctor just wouldn't comeHe was too busy treatin' the wealthy folksTo doctor a worn out bum; As the train rolled over it's ribbon of steelStraight through to the east it spedThe engineer in his high cab seatKeep his eyes on the rails ahead;While ten cars back in the empty boxThe lonely hobo sighedFor the days of old and his pal so coldWas taking his last long ride. From Letras Mania