see that he was nearly dead I knelt down beside him and I listened Just to hear the words the dying fellow said He said, "They let me out of prison
Ten years ago on a cold dark night Someone was killed 'neath the town hall lights There were few at the scene, but they all agreed That the slayer who
know how I'm goin' to Jackson, you turn-a loose-a my coat 'Cos I'm goin' to Jackson, "Goodbye," that's all she wrote But they'll laugh at you in Jackson
Look a-yonder comin', comin' down that railroad track Hey, look a-yonder comin', comin' down that railroad track It's the Orange Blossom Special bringin
Well they're building a gallows outside my cell I've got 25 minutes to go And the whole town's waitin' just to hear me yell I've got 24 minutes to go
My bills are all due and the babies need shoes But I'm busted Cotton is gone down to a quarter a pound And I'm busted I got a cow that's gone dry and
his right hand The verdict read in the first degree I hollered, "Lordy, Lordy have mercy on me" The judge he smiled as he picked up his pen 99 years in the Folsom
Well he's not very handsome to look at Oh he's shaggy and he eats like a hog And he's always killin' my chickens That dirty old egg-suckin' dog Egg-suckin
around me To the cold gray walls that surround me And then I realize I was only dreaming For there's a guard, and the sad old padre Arm in arm, I walk at
On a Monday, I was arrested, uh, huh On a Tuesday, they locked me in the jail, poor boy On a Wednesday, my trial was attested On a Thursday, they said
set my soul free There's a Greystone chapel here at Folsom A house of worship in this den of sin You wouldn't think that God had a place here at Folsom
of mine, who spent his time Staring at the wall Staring at the wall As he looked at that wall so strong and tall You could hear him softly curse Nobody at
After seven years behind these bars together I'll miss you more than a brother when you go, when you go If only I had not tried to escape They'd barred
Oh, come all you young fellers, young and so fine Seek not your fortune in the dark dreary mine It'll form as a habit and seep in your soul Till the stream
Last time we were here at Folsom Prison, they were hanging Joe Bean.Is Joe still here...Joe Bean?Hang the son of a bitch anyways, right? Well, they
back door of your life, you swept me out dear In the bread line of your dreams, I lost my place At the table of your love, I got the brush off At the
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