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.
i'm stuck at folsom prison and time keeps draggin' on.
but that 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 ever 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 folk eatin' in a fancy dining 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 on over a little farther 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.
the international submarine band
"safe at home" shiloh records 1967
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