Percy squished infinity to two links of chain.
Slept under cardboard in a cold rain.
The signs were two arrows and two over ten.
If you don’t know what that means
we may never see you again.
A hobo named Percy Boyd
hopped on a train that went to hell.
Hopped on another went up to Nebraska
and if you asked her,
she would say that he loved her well.
Percy drew a kitten with his foot in the dirt.
On the next boxcar there was talk of work.
He slept peaceful above the rumblin’ line.
Picking peaches, suited him just fine.
A hobo named Percy Boyd
hopped on a train that went to hell.
Hopped on another went up to Alaska
and if you asked her,
she would say that he loved her well.
He carved his first nickel once he’d spent his last dime.
Sold it for a dollar when he was doing a little time
for sleeping in the wrong barn on the wrong night
in the arms of the wrong man’s wife.
A hobo named Percy Boyd
hopped on a train the day they let him go.
Now, he’s in California baskin’
if you asked him, he’d say
I like to rock the rock and roll the roll.