I

hear

the

train

a

co-

min',

It's

roll-

ing

round

the

bend.

And

I

ain't

seen

the

sun-

shine

since

I

don't

know

when.

I'm

stuck

in

Fol-

som

pri-

son,

and

time

keeps

dra-

ggin'

on.

But

that

train

keeps

a

roll-

in'

on

down

to

San

An-

ton.

When

I

was

just

a

ba-

by

my

ma-

ma

told

me,

"Son,

Al-

ways

be

a

good

boy,

don't

e-

ver

play

with

guns."

But

I

shot

a

man

in

Re-

no

just

to

watch

him

die.

When

I

hear

that

whi-

stle

blow-

ing

I

hang

my

head

and

cry.

I

bet

there's

rich

folks

eat-

ing

from

a

fan-

cy

din-

ing

car.

They're

pro-

bably

drink-

in'

cof-

fee

and

smok-

ing

big

ci-

gars.

Well

I

know

I

had

it

com-

ing,

I

know

I

can't

be

free,

But

those

peo-

ple

keep

a

mov-

in',

And

that's

what

tor-

tures

me.

Well

if

they'd

free

me

from

his

pri-

son,

If

that

rail-

road

train

was

mine,

I

bet

I'd

move

it

all

a

lit-

tle

far-

ther

down

the

line.

Far

from

Fol-

som

pri-

son,

that's

where

I

want

to

stay,

And

I'd

let

that

lone-

some

whis-

tle

blow

my

blues

a-

way.