In his dapper drab old duds
sits a beggar named Hobo Bob
once the king of Steamwash Suds
now a perfectly drunk old slob

Never had a patron seen him sober
Never did he refuse a friendly drink
He was better company half seas over
Than when he had clarity to think

His father was a tinker
His mother was a lush
He was nearly born a drinker
with rum poured in his mush

Now he greets the local ladies
with a bent up smile and a mumbled slur
and holds out his hand for coppers daily
It's the only living that he can earn

So if you see him smiling give him a nod
and maybe share your bread as you go
You'll recognize his appearance is odd
The cleanest beggar on Kettleclunk Row