Go to sleep, you weary hobo
Let the town drift slowly by,
Listen to the steel rails humming
That's the hobo's lullaby.
Do not think about tomorrow,
Let tomorrow come and go.
Tonight you have a nice warm boxcar
Free from all the ice and snow.
I know the police cause you trouble,
They make trouble everywhere,
But when you die and go to heaven,
Well, you won't find police there.
Now do not let your heart be troubled
If the world calls you a bum,
'Cause if your mother lives, she loves you
Well, you are still your mother's son.