The Bo got down on rough worn ties;
Lifted his head in prayer,
And knelt there pleading to the skies—
A whistle sounded through the air.
The Hobo heard and tried to rise,
Saw the train comin’ fast.
His muscles failed—and from the ties,
He welcomed this—the last.
It’s only a blanket—stiff ye hit,
Sent another bum to Hell.