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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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