one early morning and it looked like rain
Along the blind side of old Bill Jones
A good old hobo and he's try
Well, he's tryin' to get home
Well, way down in Georgia on a tramp
Those roads gettin' muddy,
Got to catch a freight train
Well, a hangin' around, hangin' around
You know they don't want no hobos
So I left Atlanta one mornin' for a date
Got no money, so I pawned my shoes
I got the Milwaukee blues
Those old Milwaukee blues
Well, I got them new off the blue
Now old Bill Jones said before he died
Two more roads I'd like to ride
Fireman said, what can they be?
The Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe
Well, the Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe
Old Bill John said before he died
Fix the road so the boys can ride
When we ride, we ride the rods
Put all our trust in the hands of God
All our trust in the hands of God
I left Atlanta one morning for a day
Got no money, so I pawned my shoes
Born in the West, I got the Milwaukee blues
You know I want to go west,
I got the Milwaukee blues