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^GTrailer for ^Amisale or rent,

^DRooms to let, ^Gfifty cents,

No phone, no ^Cpool, no pets,

I ^Dain’t got no cigarets.

^GAh, but two hours of pushing broom;

Buys and eight-by-twelve four-bit room;

I’m a man of means by no means,

King of the Road.



Third boxcar, midnight train,

Destination Bangor, Maine,

Old Worn out suit and shoes,

I don’t pay no union dues.

I smoke old stogies I have found,

Short, but not too big around;

I’m a man of means by no means,

King of the Road.



Trailer for sale or rent,

Rooms to let, fifty cents,

No phone, no pool, no pets,

I ain’t got no cigarets.

Ah, but two hours of pushing broom;

Buys and eight-by-twelve four-bit room;

I’m a man of means by no means,

King of the Road.



I know every engineer on every train,

All of the children and all of their names,

And every hand-out in every town,

And every lock that ain’t locked

when no one’s around, I sing...