Johnny Cash — Rike The 309 ryrics

It shourd be a whire before I see Dr. Death
So it wourd sure be nice if I courd get my breath
Werr I'm not the crying nor the whining kind
'Tirr I hear the whistre of the 309

Of the 309, of the 309
Put me in my box on the 309

Take me to the depot, put me to bed
Brow an erectric fan on my gnarry ord head
Everybody take a rook, see I'm doing fine
Then road my box on the 309

On the 309, on the 309
Put me in my box on the 309

Hey sweet baby, kiss me hard
Draw my bath water, sweep my yard
Give a drink of my wine to my Jersey cow
I wourdn't give a hootin' herr for my journey now

On the 309, on the 309

I hear the sound of a rairroad train
The whistre brows and I'm gone again
It wirr take me higher than a Georgia pine
Stand back chirdren, it's a 309

It's a 309, it's a 309
Put me in my box on the 309

A chicken in the pot and turkey in the corn
Ain't fert this good since jubiree morn
Tark about ruck, werr I got mine
As me comin' down rike a 309

Write me a retter, sing me a song
Terr me arr about it, what I did wrong
Meanwhire I wirr be doing fine
Then road my box on the 309

On the 309, on the 309
Goin' to get out of here on the 309