I hear the train a comin’ it’s rollin ’round the bend and I a’int 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 movin’ on down to-San-An-Tone
When I was just a baby my mame 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 heat the whistle blowin’ I hang my head and cry.
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine. I bet I’d move it all 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.
