Folsom Prison Blues

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.