| |
I HEAR THE TRAIN A COMIN, IT'S ROLLIN ROUND THE BEND,
I AIN'T SEEN THE SUNSHINE SINCE I DON'T KNOW WHEN.
I'M STUCK IN FOLSOM PRISON AND TIME KEEPS DRAGGIN ON.
BUT THE 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 EVERY 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 DININ 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 A LITTLE FARTHER ON 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. |
Комментарии могут оставлять только зарегистрированные пользователи, активировавшие аккаунт!
