I was there when they opened the boxcar
We found him stone dead on the floor
Though thumbing and bumming was all of our trade
No one had seen him before

He wore the face of a stranger
Lost and unseen in a crowd
He looked so small as we carried him down
Wrapped in a newspaper shroud

The wind blows cold in Wyoming
The stars shine clear and bright
If you don't wake up tomorrow at all
I guess it's old buddy goodnight

His hair was the color of winter
All streaked with iron and coal
And all you could see in his soft prairie eyes
Was the wind and the grass and the snow

The backs of his hands were like roadmaps
The lines on his face were the same
And on his left arm a faded tattoo
Bordered a rose and a name

The wind blows cold in Wyoming
The stars shine clear and bright
If you don't wake up tomorrow at all
I guess it's old buddy goodnight
Now I don't know where he came from
His train was a UP freight
If there's someone waiting for him on the coast
He'll be a little bit late

So give a line for him in your paper
And here's what I want you to say
There's some things worse than dying alone
One of them's living that way

The wind blows cold in Wyoming
The stars shine clear and bright
If you don't wake up tomorrow at all
I guess it's old buddy goodnight