I came into Yuba as soon as I read
Of all of those twenty-five hobos found dead
I came in to find out if one of the slain
Could have answered to my brother's name
It might be your brother, I just couldn't say
We hire lots of floaters who work by the day;
Now I see his photo they might be the same
But I never did ask him his name

Chorus: If I had a list and if I only knew
I'd write down their names and sing them to you
And when I got done, I'd sing them again
So you'd all know each one had a name
He had a room and ran out on the rent
Hired on a crew, I don't know where he went
If I knew his boss, I might make a claim
But I never did write down his name

He stopped for a drink every now and again
Didn't look no different than hundreds of men;
You know these old b__s, they all look the same
No reason to ask him his name
It might have been Shorty, a feller I knew
We bunked in the empties when the season was through
You know, I been thinking, it sure is a shame
I never did ask him his name
We always abandon the old for the new
And second-hand people get thrown away, too;
I know it won't help, but still it explains
Why no one remembers their names