Hobos Prayer

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Under bridges, beneath trestles, in 
the boxcars of dead trains
 Bm
Livin' to beat the cold, of the 
pourin' drivin' rain
    D
A silent society moves out in the 
night
        Bm                         
Ragged rebels, homeless hobos, and 
           C  F              
those like me, who've lost the 
   D
light.

        D
Saint Peter is a prophet, to all the
 hobo world
     Bm
An expert on everything, from caviar
 to girls
   D
I met him west of Memphis, on the 
eighth of July
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     Bm                       C   
He handed me a can of beans, and a
   F    D
 rusty knife.

               F#m           G 
And he said "Everything out here 
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ain't what it seems
     F#m                  G       
And when you're down to nothin' 
   D              A
just go ahead and dream
              D
And face the fact that you're a 
circle, in a world full of squares,
          F            C     
Tradin' sorrows for tomorrows, 
                      D
that's the hobo's prayer.

Mother Mary is a lady, from down in 
New Orleans
She's seen a lot of livin', since 
she was seventeen,
She said "I'm bona fide and worldly 
wise, with original parts,
'Cept for what set me to travellin',
 I'm talkin' about my heart"

She said "I can spot a broken heart 
from twenty miles away.
So are you passin' through, or have 
you come to stay?"
"You're runnin' from a woman", she 
said with a grin,
"So what've you got to say?" And I 
said: "I am a Pilgrim"

Where everything out here ain't what
 it seems
And when I'm down to nothin' I just 
go ahead and dream
And face the fact that I'm a circle,
 in a world full of squares
Tradin' sorrows for tomorrows, and 
that's the hobo's prayer.