Only a Hobo

Writer: Bob Dylan

As I was out walking on a corner one day,
I spied an old hobo, in a doorway he lay.
His face was all grounded on the cold sidewalk floor.
And I guess he had been there for the whole night or more.

He was only a hobo, but one more is gone.
Leaving nobody to sing his sad song.
Leaving nobody to carry him home,
He was only a hobo but one more is gone.


A blanket of newspapers covered his head.
The curb was his pillow, the street was his bed.
One look at his face showed the hard road he'd come.
And a fist full of coins showed the money he'd bummed.


He was only a hobo, but one more is gone.
Leaving nobody to sing his sad song.
Leaving nobody to carry him home,
He was only a hobo but one more is gone.


It don't take much a man to see his life go down,
To look up at the world from a hole in the ground.
To wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame.
To lie in the gutter and die with no name.


He was only a hobo, but one more is gone.
Leaving nobody to sing his sad song.
Leaving nobody to carry him home,
He was only a hobo but one more is gone.