Lonesome Me - Roy Acuff

There once lived a man, he came from Mexico

They called him poor hobo, his name was Lonesome Joe

He would ride the blinds, ride the rods below

The cinders from the freight had scarred his face you know

He knew every rail, he knew every tie

He knew every water tank that he passed by

And everywhere he went they called him poor hobo

He lived a lonesome life, his name was Lonesome Joe

He knew every house and every store

Where they would give a hand to a poor hobo

He would tip his hat in the nicest way

And he’d bow real low in a graceful way

He’d eat a country ham and enjoy the fat

He’d take a hard boiled egg and put it in his hat

He’d ask to mow your lawn in a tone of woe

You know he’d never work this lonesome poor hobo

His shoes were always worn, sometimes they wouldn’t match

His hat was always flopped, his clothes were always patched

He had the finest watch on the finest chain

He’d keep the closest time on the fastest train

I’ve seen him catch a freight, the best in the land

I’ve seen him grab a freight, a sandwich in his hand

He saw all the world but never made no dough

He died a happy man his name was Lonesome Joe