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