1.I Walk The Line
Lyricist：J.R. Cash
Writer(s)：J.R. Cash
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line
I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you
Because you're mine, I walk the line
As sure as night is dark and day is light
I keep you on my mind both day and night
And happiness I've known proves that it's right
Because you're mine, I walk the line
You've got a way to keep me on your side
You give me cause for love that I can't hide
For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide
Because you're mine, I walk the line
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line
2.A Boy Named Sue
Lyricist：S. Silverstein
Writer(s)：S. Silverstein
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to ma and me,
Just this ole guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him 'cause he run and hid,
But the meanest thing that he ever did,
Was before he left he went and named me Sue.
Well, he musta thought that it was quite a joke,
An' it got a lot of laughs from lots a folks,
Seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red,
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I'll tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.
I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I roamed from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made me a vow to the moon and stars,
I'd search the honky-tonks and bars,
And kill that man that gave me that awful name.
Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July,
and i'd just hit town and my throat was dry,
thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
In and old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table dealin' stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me Sue.
Well I knew that snake was my own sweet dad,
from a worn out picture that my mother had,
and I knew that scar on his cheek ＆ his evil eye.
He was big and bent and grey and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold, and I said,
'My name is Sue! how do you do! Now you gonna die!'
Yeah that's what I told him.
Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes,
And he went down but to my surprise,
Came up with a knife an' cut off a piece o' my ear.
I busted a chair right across his teeth,
And we crashed through the wall and into the street,
Kickin' and a gougin' in the the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell you I've fought tougher men,
but I really can't remember when,
he kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
Well I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun but I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.
And he said, 'Son, this world is rough,
And if a man's gonna make it he's gotta be tough,
And I know I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said goodbye,
I knew you'd have to get tough or die,
And it's that name that helped to make you strong.
Now you just fought one hell of a fight,
And I know you hate me and ya got the right,
To kill me now and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But you oughtta thank me before I die,
For the gravel in your gut and the spit in your eye,
'Cause I'm the son of a bitch that named you Sue.'
yeah, what could I do, what COULD I do？
Well I got choked up and threw down my gun,
Called him my pa and he called me his son,
And I come away with a different point of view.
I think about him now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son,
I think I'm gonna name him,
Bill or George any damn thing but Sue!
I still hate that name!
3.Sunday Morning Coming Down
Lyricist：K. Kristofferson
Writer(s)：K. Kristofferson
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
4.Osteraker(San Quentin)
Lyricist：M. Haggard
Writer(s)：M. Haggard
San Quentin you've living hell to me
You've called at me since 1963
I've seen them come and go and I've seen them die
And long ago I stopped asking why
San Quentin I hate every inch of you
You've cut me and you've scarred me through and through
And I'll walk out a wiser, weaker man
Mr. Congressman, why cant you understand？
San Quentin what good do you think you do？
Do you think I'll be different when you're through？
You bend my heart ＆ mind and you warp my soul
Your stone walls turn my blood a little cold
San Quentin may you rot and burn in hell
May your walls fall and may I live to tell
May all the world forget you ever stood
And the whole world will regret you did no good
San Quentin you've been living hell to me.
5.Me And Bobby McGee
Lyricist：Kris Kristofferson;Fred Foster
Writer(s)：Kris KristoffersonFred Foster
Busted flat in Baton rouge, headin' for the train
Feelin' nearly faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained
Took us all the way to New Orleans
I took my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna
I was blowin' sad while Bobby sang the blues
With them windshield wipers slappin' time
And Bobby clappin' hands
We finally sang up every song that driver knew
Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose
And nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free
Feelin' good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee
From the coal mines of Kentucky to the California sun
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
Standin' right beside me through everything I've done
And every night he kept me from the cold
Then somewhere near Salinas I let him slip away
Lookin' for the home I hope he'll find
And I'll trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday
Holdin' Bobby's body next to mine
Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose
Nothin' left is all he left me, yeah
Feelin' good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee
Enough for me and Bobby McGee
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee
Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose
And nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free
Feelin' good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee
From the coal mines of Kentucky to the California sun
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
Standin' right beside me through everything I've done
And every night he kept me from the cold
Then somewhere near Salinas I let him slip away
Lookin' for the home I hope he'll find
And I'll trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday
Holdin' Bobby's body next to mine
Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose
Nothin' left is all he left me
Feelin' good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee
Enough for me and Bobby McGee
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee, yeah
I let him slip away lookin' for the home I hope he finds
Enough for me and my Bobby McGee
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee, yeah
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee, yeah
6.Orleans Parish Prison
Lyricist：D. Feller
Writer(s)：D. Feller
Well, have you seen my darkhaired girl？
She was set on her love to a hungry world
They got her clothes anA the money she took
And they wrote her name in the prison books
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free my darkhaired girl？
SheÂ's tired and cold and you got the gold
She took from a hungry world
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free my darkhaired girl？
Well have seen my green eyed son？
He shot a man down with a sawed off gun
And they fond him down by the Pontchartrain
Where they cuffed his arms with a big iron chain
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free me green eyed son？
I heard him say as you let him away
Sorry for what he's done
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free me green eyed son？
Well have you missed my brother man？
He took a little money with a gun in his hand
Know the kids are hungry and the wife ain't well
And the daddy's locked up in a prison cell
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free my brother man？
I know itÂ's sad but he ain't bad
HeÂ's doing the best he can
Orleans Parish Prison won't you free my brother man？
7.Jacob Green
8.Life Of A Prisoner
9.The Prisoners Song
10.Folsom Prison Blues
Lyricist：J. R. Cash
Writer(s)：J. R. Cash
I hear the train a comin'
it's rolling 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 Anton..
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 blowing, I hang my head and cry..
I bet there's rich folks eating in a fancy dining car
they're probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars.
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free
but those people keep a movin'
and that's what tortures me...
Well if they'd free me from this prison,
if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd moved it all a little further 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.....
I bet I'd move just a little further 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.....
11.City Jail
Lyricist：J.R. Cash
Writer(s)：J.R. Cash
Well, I left my motel room, down at the Starkville Motel,
The town had gone to sleep and I was feelin' fairly well.
I strolled along the sidewalk 'neath the sweet magnolia trees;
I was whistlin', pickin' flowers, swayin' in the southern
breeze.
I found myself surrounded; one policeman said： 'That's him.
Come along, wild flower child. Don't you know that it's two
a.m.'
They're bound to get you.
'Cause they got a curfew.
And you go to the Starkville City jail.
Well, they threw me in the car and started driving into town;
I said： 'What the hell did I do？' He said： 'Shut up and sit
down.'
Well, they emptied out my pockets, took my pills and guitar
picks.
I said： 'Wait, my name is...' 'Awe shut up.' Well, I sure was in
a fix.
The sergeant put me in a cell, then he went home for the night;
I said： 'Come back here, you so and so; I ain't bein' treated
right.'
Well, they're bound to get you, cause they got a curfew,
And you go to the Starkville City Jail.
I started pacin' back and forth, and now and then I'd yell,
And kick my forty dollar shoes against the steel floor of my
cell.
I'd walk awhile and kick awhile, and all night nobody came.
Then I sadly remembered that they didn't even take my name.
At 8 a.m. they let me out. I said： 'Gimme them things of mine!'
They gave me a sneer and a guitar pick, and a yellow dandelion.
They're bound to get you, 'cause they got a curfew,
And you go to the Starkville City Jail.
12.Help Me Make It Through The Night
13.That Silver Haired Daddy Of Mine
Lyricist：G. Autry;J. Long
Writer(s)：J. LongG. Autry
In a vine covered shack in the mountains.
Bravely fighting the battle of time.
There's a dear one who's wept through life's sorrows.
It's that silver haired daddy of mine.
If I could recall all the heartaches,
dear ole daddy I've caused you to bear.
If I could erase those lines from your face and bring
back the gold to your hair.
If God would but grant me the power just to turn back
the pages of time. I would give all I own just to put
a tone to that silver haired daddy of mine.
14.The Invertebraes
15.Lookin' Back In Anger
16.I Saw A Man
17.High Heel Sneakers
18.Blue Suede Shoes
19.Dirty Old Egg Sucking Dog
Lyricist：Unknown writer used for US／GRS Conversion
Writer(s)：Unknown writer used for US／GRS Conversion
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' dog
I'm gonna stomp your head in the ground
If you don't stay out of my hen house
You dirty old egg-suckin' hound
Now if he don't stop eatin' my eggs up
Though I'm not a real bad guy
I'm gonna get my riffle and send him
To that great chicken house in the sky
Egg-suckin' dog
Your always hangin' around
But you'd better stay out of my hen house
You dirty old egg-suckin' hound
20.Wreck Of The Old 97
Lyricist：J. R. Cash;N. Blake;R. L. Johnson Jr.
Writer(s)：R. L. Johnson Jr.N. BlakeJ. R. Cash
Well they gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia,
Said：'Steve, you're way behind time,
'This is not 38, this is Ol' 97,
'Put her into Spencer on time.'
Then he turned around and said to his black, greasy fireman,
'Shovel on a little more coal.
'And when we cross that White Oak mountain,
'Watch Ol' '97 roll.'
And then a telegram come from Washington station,
This is how it read：
'Oh that brave engineer that run ol 97,
'Is lyin in old Danville dead.'
'Cos he was going down a grade making 90 miles an hour,
The whistle broke into a scream.
He was found in the wreck with his hand on the throttle,
Scalded to death by the steam.
One more time!
Oh, now all you ladies you'd better take a warning,
From this time on and learn.
Never speak hard words to your true-lovin' husband.
He may leave you and never return.
Poor Boy.
21.I Promise You
22.Nobody Cared
Lyricist：June Carter Cash
Writer(s)：June Carter Cash
When life seems full
Of clouds and rain
And I'm full
Of nothin' but pain
Who soothes my thumpin', bumpin' brain？
Nobody
When Wintertime comes
With its snow and sleet
And me with hunger
And cold feet
Who says 'Here's two bits, go and eat'？
Nobody
Well, I ain't never done nothin' to nobody
I ain't never got nothin' from nobody, no time
And until I get something from somebody, sometime
I don't intend to do nothin' for nobody, no time
When Summertime comes
All warm and clear
And my friends see me
Drawin' near
Who says 'come on in and have a beer'？
Nobody
Well one time when things was
Lookin' bright
I started to whittlin' on a stick one night
Who said 'Hey! That's dynamite!'？
Nobody
Mmmm, I ain't never done nothin' to nobody
I ain't never got nothin' from nobody, no time
And until I get something from somebody, sometime
I don't intend to do nothin' for nobody, no time
I ain't never done nothin' to nobody
I ain't never got nothin' from nobody, no time
And until I get something from somebody, sometime
I don't intend to do nothin' for nobody, no time
23.San Quentin
Lyricist：J. CASH
Writer(s)：J. CASH you've living hell to me
You've called at me since 1963
I've seen them come and go and I've seen them die
And long ago I stopped asking why
San Quentin I hate every inch of you
You've cut me and you've scarred me through and through
And I'll walk out a wiser, weaker man
Mr. Congressman, why cant you understand？
San Quentin what good do you think you do？
Do you think I'll be different when you're through？
You bend my heart ＆ mind and you warp my soul
Your stone walls turn my blood a little cold
San Quentin may you rot and burn in hell
May your walls fall and may I live to tell
May all the world forget you ever stood
And the whole world will regret you did no good
San Quentin you've been living hell to me.
24.Folsom Prison Blues
Lyricist：Johnny Cash
Writer(s)：Johnny Cash
I hear the train a comin'
it's rolling 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 Anton..
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 blowing, I hang my head and cry..
I bet there's rich folks eating in a fancy dining car
they're probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars.
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free
but those people keep a movin'
and that's what tortures me...
Well if they'd free me from this prison,
if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd moved it all a little further 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.....
I bet I'd move just a little further 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.....
| 
.jpg)