A little lion lives with all the dolls. He isn't domineering or ferocious, so they don't seem to mind. In fact. he's so laid back he never bothers anyone,
because he wants to be a Hobo.
With his little knapsack over his shoulder, he wants to ride the rails; hear the clickety clack of the train and smell freshly poured tar on the track.
He wants to escape into the wind to find wide open spaces.
And at night, when the stars come out, he'll sleep in a tiny grotto under the rails
Along the way, our Hobo lion can sleep on the prairie grasses, eating beans out of a can.
He'll smoke ciggy butts, he finds at the railway stations.
Ahhhhh, there's nothing better than that.
When the train encamps over night, our little vagrant can gather 'round the campfire telling tales of Hobo's long past, with other wandering tramps.
I don't know lion-man, this sounds so good, I may join you!
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