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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 dragging 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 shoot 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 probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars. Well 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 railroad train was mine, I bet I'd move it on a little farther down the line. Far from Folson Prison, that's where I want to stay, And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.
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