Spike

I hear the train a comin'. It's rolling 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 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 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's rich folks eating in a fancy dining car. They're probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars. Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free. But those people keep a movin'and that's what tortures me.

Well if they'd free me from this prison. If that railroad train was mine. I bet I'd move just a little further 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.....

(Sorry, Blogger would not let me upload yesterday)