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Al Duvall - Pick Em Clean Lyrics

I'm the finest looking hobo you’ll ever chance to meet
All around the jungle fire they call me Handsome Pete
We all look out for each other especially first-time boys
I care for them just like a son
‘Cause I see myself in every one

And I pick ‘em clean
I pick ‘em clean
I'm the sweetest pal they've ever seen
I beat ‘em down and I pick ‘em clean

Therе’s a salesman at the station come prowling for somе sheep
His satchel full of morphine his bankroll hidden deep
As I tell him ‘bout the suckers he thinks I'm in the game
He says ”where's the action in this town?”
I show him the ropes as I tie him down

And I pick him clean
I pick him clean I pick ‘em ripe and I pick ‘em green
I beat ‘em down and I pick ‘em clean
Some hobos like their sterno some taste the sweet cocaine
But they all become quite sober when I push 'em off the train
After pulling off a caper I write my autograph
It's up in chalk for all to see
"2/10" and "H" and "P"
I pick ‘em clean
I pick ‘em clean
I dust my knucks on their dirty bean
I beat ‘em down and I pick ‘em clean

There's Dagger D and Rickets
Big Bacon from Fort Smith
Milwaukee Red and Glasseye and many more they're with
In a flophouse they call heaven with a hot stove at their feet
They've passed on to a better life
By my leather sap and bowie knife
I picked ‘em clean
I picked ‘em clean
I ride off on the iron machine
I beat ‘em down and I picked ‘em clean