Tonight as I lay on the boxcar   Just waiting for a train to pass by   What will become of the hobo   Whenever his turn comes to die      There's a Master up yonder in Heaven   Got a place that we might call our home   Willl we have to work for a living   Or can we continue to roam      Will there be any freight trains in Heaven   Any boxcars in which we might hide   Will there be any tough cops or brakemen   Will they tell us that we cannot ride      Will the hobo chum with the rich man   Will we always have money to spare   Will they have respect for the hobo   In that land that lies hidden up there