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 in folsom prison,
and time keeps draggin' on,
but that train keeps a-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 folks eatin',
in a fancy dining car,
they're probably 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 out 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.