Well the Commodore sleeps with his boots on Under a blanket of Santa Fe snow He got an old harp he plays the blues on He goes scar'n up quarters wherever he goes The Commodore he's an old hobo And his wild and his crazy and his just about free You know he rode the rails through the Dust Bowel Ah and he sailed the China Sea But there ain't no more rattlers to ride Singapore seen better days He's just an old hobo with no place to go bro All aboard anchors away ♪ With his back to the front of the boxcar Ah it's cold and it's wet and it's and a little too late And his way too far from the ocean And his think'n about givi'n up freighters and freights Decoated he stands on the trestle Cosider'n jump'n, Cosider'n not When all of a sudden from nowhere Comes the sound of a train he ain't caught But there ain't no more rattlers to ride Singapore seen better days He's just an old hobo with no place to go bro All aboard anchors away He's just an old hobo with no place to go bro All aboard anchors away