Tom: A A E I came into Yuba as soon as I read D A Of all of those twenty-five hobos found dead A D I came in to find out if one of the slain A E A Could have answered to my brother's name A E It might be your brother, I just couldn't say D A We hire lots of floaters who work by the day; A D Now I see his photo they might be the same A E A But I never did ask him his name A E Chorus: If I had a list and if I only knew E A I'd write down their names and sing them to you A D And when I got done, I'd sing them again A E A So you'd all know each one had a name A E He had a room and ran out on the rent D A Hired on a crew, I don't know where he went A D If I knew his boss, I might make a claim A E A But I never did write down his name A E He stopped for a drink every now and again D A Didn't look no different than hundreds of men; A D You know these old winos, they all look the same A E A No reason to ask him his name A E It might have been Shorty, a feller I knew D A We bunked in the empties when the season was through A D You know, I been thinking, it sure is a shame A E A I never did ask him his name A E We always abandon the old for the new D A And second-hand people get thrown away, too; A D I know it won't help, but still it explains A E A Why no one remembers their names