I once lived a man, he came from Mexico They called him poor hobo, his name was Lonesome JoeHe would ride the blinds, ride the rods below The cinders from the freight had scarred his face, you knowHe knew every rail, he knew every tie He knew every water tank that he passed byAnd everywhere he went, they called him poor hobo He lived a lonesome life, his name was Lonesome JoeMusicHe knew every house and every store Where they would give a hand to a poor hoboHe would tip his hat in the nicest way And he'd bow real low in a graceful wayHe'd eat a country ham and he'd eat a country hamEnjoy the fatHe'd take a hard-boiled egg and put it in his hatHe'd ask to mow your lawn in a tone of woe You'd know he'd never work this lonesome poor hoboMusicMusicHis shoes were always worn, sometimes they wouldn't matchHis hat was always flopped, his clothes were always patchedHe had the finest watch on the finest chainHe'd keep the closest time on the fastest trainI've seen him catch up right the bestin the land. I've seen him *** a freighter sandwich in his hand. He saw all the worldbut never made no dough and died a happy man. His name was Lonesome Joe.