Wotan

Of those all — that Wotan call, number in good homeless men
to Valhalla they go — was one-eye I know — a hobo they ken

For too many of hobos have talking heads
And starved nine days without bread

Have you slept in the rain? 'Neath a tree?
I'll show you the runes — the triangle hands

And all hobo's of old — the railroad rode
You think Sleipnir was fast as the line?

And a Norse god of old — should know how to drink
So who would you have? — The drunk or the erg'?

For a thief and a king — a warrior's dirge!