| E | ||
| 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. |
| A | ||
| I’m | stuck | in Folsom Prison |
| E | |
| and time keeps draggin’ on |
| B7 | ||
| but that | train | keeps a-rollin’ |
| E | ||
| on down to San An | tone | . |
| E | ||
| When | I | was just a baby |
| my | momma told me, “Son, |
| always | be a good boy, |
| don’t | ever play with guns.”. |
| A | ||
| But I | shot | a man in Reno |
| E | ||
| just to watch him | die | . |
| B7 | ||
| When I | hear | that whistle blowin’ |
| E | ||
| I hang my head and | cry | . |
| | | E | | | E | | | E | | | E | | |
| | | A | | | A | | | E | | | E | | |
| | | B7 | | | B7 | | | E | | | E | | |
| E | ||
| I | bet | there’s rich folks eatin’ |
| from | a fancy dining car. |
| They’re | prob’ly drinkin’ coffee |
| and | smokin’ big cigars |
| A | ||
| Well, I | know | I had it comin’. |
| E | ||
| I know I can’t be | free | . |
| B7 | ||
| But those | people | keep a-movin’ |
| E | ||
| and that’s what tortures | me | . |
| | | E | | | E | | | E | | | E | | |
| | | A | | | A | | | E | | | E | | |
| | | B7 | | | B7 | | | E | | | E | | |
| E | ||
| Well, if they | freed | me from this prison, |
| if | that railroad train was mine, |
| I | bet I’d move it on |
| a | little farther down the line. |
| A | |
| Far | from Folsom Prison. |
| E | ||
| That’s where I want to | stay | . |
| B7 | ||
| And I’d | let | that lonesome whistle |
| E | ||
| blow my blues a- | way | . |