I've been a rambler all my rompin' rovin' days,
A railroad boy with nothing for to do.
My people bid Farewell somewhere on down the road,
A hobo's friend, I'm only passing through.
I've seen your cities from San Marcus in the south,
To the concrete fenced in walls of New York town.
And wherever I go, my name nobody wants to know.
And the talking seems to slop when I'm around.
All of my life I have been quickly cast aside,
Though my handshake never meant less than your own.
II there's any which way for a poor young man to stray,
Then tell me 'cause I'd surely like to know.
