Lyrics Hobos Lullaby - Josh Martinez

Hobos Lullaby

Let me tell you about a man I know
who lives down on the rails
Let me tell you about a way of life
when the city ends and the road begins.
When it wasn’t so hard to just make your way
before taxman comes and take all your pay
then one day you just get sick of it all
and walk down the tracks and drift away
It’s a nice sunday morning, see an old man yawning,
it’s the hobo woke up underneath the grocery store’s awning
Grumpy and (?) he shares his Gin with his neighbour
This city 's gone all shitty it’s lost its gritty flavor
Now it’s full of idiots who don’t know nothing about nothing
kids these days and their week ways
He’s sitting on stoops and spitting out truths
his old ways worked going old school always.
plus it didn’t hurt the lord lurked in his hallways
used to hear him shouting to god he’d call all day.
claiming he was aimless but knowing he was lying
Searching for salvation but not exactly trying.
His face is old and his teeth are gone
his pace is slow but he shuffles on
he mumbles in tongues and speaks with a slur
And I swear if you see him you address him «yes sir!»
The real deal hobo he ain 't settling or stopping,
been going strong for so long and yet still ain’t dropping.
people talk and stare as they walk by and glare
but they knew they couldn 't do what he did could do they wouldn’t dare
And he got no car and he doesn’t get emails
he smells like an ogre and repels most females.
cursing out customers outside the store
scaring the children while working the door
And noone calls on his birthday to wish him well
sometimes the lonely gets him he misses someone who listens well
he hasn’t had a friend in who knows how long
and it seems like he’s always singing the same damn song
Day old donuts and cans of beans
Dumpster chicken and river greens.
Hopping on trains with lysol for wine
It’s just another drink to the end of the line.
Raindrops drips across his roof and seeps in
through the cardboard and concrete block he sleeps in
it wreaks havoc with each storm the attic creaks more
(??) collect some bottles on the floor
his home was his castle his domain his home
and his pain grew so great it wouldn’t leave him alone
on his own all his life he’s been cast away
so he walks down the tracks and drifts away
as he lay in the shade by the tracks where he stayed
in the shacks that were made by these quacks who obeyed
no code the open road would give him guidance, they’d focus
through blindness flash potion flask under overcoat liners.
emotions run high getting chased from the stations
when all you really need is patience.
night watch not on they must’ve caught the dose or quota
the coast was clear he steers the tracks like a hobo’s suppose ta
And a man like this is more than just a name on freights,
he’s lived his life in crates and spent late nights in fields
and forced great laughs despite always having to run
real hobos don’t slow down or pass on a hoedown
Some hobos go crazy get a little liquor in 'em
Get to thinking they’ve been victim too long to shake the feeling
Get down.
How down?
Hit the road then the soda
Had a bud in Minnesota hop a freight to Dakota
He loved the motion of locomote
Running coast to coast into the ocean
Cresting over rolling hills
And bustling towns and empty mills
It’s the Dribble and Crumb, the North American Bum.
What you use to stir coffee with?
spoon or a thumb
It’s the Dribbles and Crumbs, the North American Bum.
What you use to stir coffee with?
spoon or a thumb
Hey where you going why the hurry what’s wrong?
You gotta go so soon is the pull that strong?
Well then i guess it’s best that i say my goodbyes
and may you one day find peace under these open skies
Maybe one day he’ll forget the pain,
pack it all in and catch the westbound train.
But for now he’s just hanging for who knows how long
just riding the rails singing the same damn song
Day old donuts and cans of beans
Dumpster chicken and river greens
Hopping trains with lysol for wine
Just another drink to the end of the line
Day old donuts and cans of beans
Dumpster chicken and river greens
Hopping trains with lysol for wine
Just another drink to the end of the line