Recorded by Hank Snow 
Words and music by Halcomb & Daffan 
 
C                                 
In the Dodge City yards of the Sante Fe 
                                G7
Stood a freight made up for the east 

And the engineer with his oil and waste 
                            C
Was groomin' the great iron beast; 
 
While ten cars back in the murky dust 
      C7             F
A box-car door swung wide 
      G7
And a hobo lifted his pal aboard 
                           C
To start on his last, long ride; 
  F
A lantern swung and the freight pulled out 
                       C
The engine it gathered speed 
    F
The engineer pulled the throttle wide 
    D7                   G7
And clucked to his fiery steed; 
C
Ten cars back in the empty box 
                  G7
The hobo rolled a pill 

The flare of the match showed his partners' face 
                        C
Stark white and deathly still; 
 
As the train wheels clicked on the couplin' joints 
  C7                     F
A song for the ramblers' ears 
    G7
The hobo talked to the still, white form 
                   C
His pal for many a year; 
 
{SPOKEN} 
C
For a mighty long time we've rambled, Jack 
                          F
With the luck of men that roam 
     G7
With the back door steps for a dining room 
                     C
And the boxcar for a home; 
 
We dodged the bulls on the eastern route 

And the cops on the Chesapeake 

We travelled the Leadville Narrow Gauge 

In the days of Cripple Creek;  
 
We drifted down through sunny Cal 

On the rails of the old S. P. 

And of all you had, through good and bad 

A half always belonged to me;  
 
You made me promise to you, Jack 

If I lived and you cashed in 

To take you back to the old churchyard 

And bury you there with your kin; 
 
You seemed to know I would keep my word 

For you said that I was wise 

Well, I'm keepin my promise to you, pal 

'Cause I'm takin' you home tonight; 
 
I hadn't the money to send you there 

So I'm takin' you back on the 'fly' 

It's the decent way for a Bo to go 

Home to the by and by;              
 
I knew that fever had you, Jack 

And that doctor just wouldn't come 

He was too busy treatin' the wealthy folks 

To doctor a worn out bum;           
 
{SUNG} 
C
As the train rolled over it's ribbon of steel 
                                G7
Straight through to the east it sped 

The engineer in his high cab seat 
                             C
Keep his eyes on the rails a-head; 
 
While ten cars back in the empty box 
         C7
The lone- ly hobo F sighed 
        G7
For the days of old and his pal so cold 
                         C
Was taking his last long ride.