| I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend, |
| And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when. |
| I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on. |
| But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone. |
|
| When I was just a baby, my mama told me, Son, |
| Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns. |
| But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die. |
| When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry. |
|
| I bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car. |
| They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars, |
| But I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free, |
| But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me. |
|
| Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine, |
| I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line, |
| Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay, |
| And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away |