I hear the train a comin\xb4
it\xb4s rolling round the bend
and I ain\xb4t seen the sunshine since I don\xb4t know when,
I\xb4m stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin\xb4 on
but that train keeps a rollin\xb4 on down to San Anton.
When I was just a baby my mama told me. Son,
always be a good boy, don\xb4t ever play with guns.
But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die
now every time I hear that whistle I hang my head and cry..

I bet there\xb4s rich folks eating in a fancy dining car
they\xb4re probally drinkin\xb4 coffee and smoking big cigarrs.
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can\xb4t be free
but those people keep a movin\xb4
and that\xb4s what torture means.

Well if they\xb4d free me from this prison,
if that railroad train was mine
I bet I\xb4d move just a little further down the line
far from Folsom prison is where I long to stay
and I\xb4d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.