I hear the train a comin�
it�s rolling round the bend
and I ain�t seen the sunshine since I don�t know when,
I�m stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin� on
but that train keeps a rollin� on down to San Anton..
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
now every time I hear that whistle I hang my head and cry..
I bet there�s rich folks eating in a fancy dining car
they�re probally drinkin� coffee and smoking big cigarrs.
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can�t be free
but those people keep a movin�
and that�s what torture means...
Well if they�d free me from this prison,
if that railroad train was mine
I bet I�d move just a little further down the line
far from Folsom prison is where I long to stay
and I�d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
