DYING HOBO, THE
(Traditional - Based on the 19th Century poem "Bingen On The Rhine")


Burnett & Rutherford (Titled "Little Stream Of Whiskey") - 1926
Kelly Harrell - 1926
Travis B. Hale & E. J. Derry, Jr. - 1927
Arthur Fields - 1928
McMichen-Layne String Orch.  - 1928
Dick Justice (Titled "One Cold December Day") - 1929
Roy Harvey & Earl Shirkey - 1929






As recorded by ARTHUR FIELDS:

Beside a Western water tank one cold December day
Inside an empty boxcar, a dying hobo lay
His partner stood beside him with a low and bowed down head
Listening to the last words that the dying hobo said

I am going to a better land where everything is bright
Where handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
And you never have to work at all, and never change your socks
And the little streams of whiskey come trickling down the rocks

Tell all the boys in Frisco town my trade is almost due
Tell them I caught a fast train and I'm going straight on through
Yes, tell them not to weep for me, no tears in my eyes must blur
I'm going to a better land where they hate the word called work

Oh! hark, I hear the whistling, I'll catch her on the fly
Just one more scoop of beer I'd like, once more before I die
Then the hobo stopped, his head fell back, he'd sung his last refrain
And his partner took his hat and shoes and caught the Eastbound train


(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - January 2013)


********************


As recorded by RICHARD BURNETT & LEONARD RUTHERFORD
under the title "Little Stream Of Whiskey":

Just a mile west of the water tank on a cold November day
In a cold and lonely boxcar, a dying hobo lay
His pal sat there beside him with a low and drooping head
Listening to the last words his dying buddy said
 
"Partner, old partner, I must say goodbye
I hear that train a-coming and I know it's getting nigh
Will you tell that old conductor just where I want to stop
Where the little stream of whiskey comes trickling down the rocks
 
We've rode the rods together, we've rambled all around
In every kind of weather, we've slept out on the ground
Partner, don't you miss the train that always makes the stop
Where the little stream of whiskey comes trickling down the rocks
 
Tell my girl in Danville she need not worry at all
I'm going to that country where I won't have to work at all
I won't have to wash my overalls or even change my socks
Where the little stream of whiskey comes trickling down the rocks
 
I'm going to that better place where everything is right
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
I won't have to jump another train or work another job
Where the little stream of whiskey comes trickling down the rocks
 
I hear the fast mail coming, I'll catch it by and by
Oh, gal of mine, oh, gal of mine, it ain't so hard to die"
His head fell back and his eyes fell in as he breathed his last refrain
His partner swiped his shoes and socks and hopped the Eastbound train





(Contributed by Mel Priddle - January 2013)