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 At Folsom Prison And Time Keeps Draggin' On.
But That Train Keeps 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 Folk Eatin' In A Fancy Dining Car.
They're Prob'ly 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 On 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