Thunder Cash '69
Oh, God
Well, I hear that 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 in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps a-rollin' on down to San Antone
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son
You always be a good boy, don't you ever fuck with guns"
But I shot a man in Muldrow, just to watch him die (die, die, die)
When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry
Ow!
I bet there's rich folks eatin' in a fancy dining car
They're probably smokin' reefer and drinkin' PBR
Well, I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free (can't, can't, can't)
But those people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures me
Ow!
Well, if they freed me from this prison, and if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move it on a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I wanna stay (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
And I'd let that lonesome whistle, blow my blues away
Living fast and dying young like an endless poetry
My motor-psycho nightmare freak out inside of me
My sole salvation, liberation on the drive
The power of the blaster, move me faster
1969
Well, I hear that 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 in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps a-rollin' on down to San Antone
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son
You always be a good boy, don't you ever fuck with guns"
But I shot a man in Muldrow, just to watch him die (die, die, die)
When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry
Ow!
I bet there's rich folks eatin' in a fancy dining car
They're probably smokin' reefer and drinkin' PBR
Well, I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free (can't, can't, can't)
But those people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures me
Ow!
Well, if they freed me from this prison, and if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move it on a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I wanna stay (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
And I'd let that lonesome whistle, blow my blues away
Living fast and dying young like an endless poetry
My motor-psycho nightmare freak out inside of me
My sole salvation, liberation on the drive
The power of the blaster, move me faster
1969
Credits
Writer(s): Johnny Cash, Rob Zombie, White Zombie
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