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Highwayman: The Best of Johnny Cash
01. Ring of Fire
02. I Walk the Line
03. Folsom Prison Blues (live at Folsom State Prison, Folsom, CA - January 1968)
04. Highwayman
05. (Ghost) Riders in the Sky
06. A Boy Named Sue (live at San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA - February 1969)
07. Jackson
08. One Piece at a Time
09. Man in Black
10. Sunday Morning Coming Down (live at Ryman Auditorium, Nashville, TN - July 1970)
11. Cocaine Blues (live at Folsom State Prison, Folsom, CA - January 1968)
12. Ragged Old Flag
13. Don’t Take Your Guns to Town
14. American Remains
15. The General Lee
16. Orange Blossom Special
17. There Ain’t No Good Chain Gang
18. I Still Miss Someone
19. It Ain’t Me, Babe
20. A Thing Called Love
I am a shotgun rider for the San Jacinto line,
The desert is my brother, my skin is cracked and dry.
I was riding on a folk coach and everything was fine,
'Til we took a shorter road to save some time.
The bandits only fired once, they shot me in the chest.
They may have wounded me but they'll never get the best,
Of better men:
'Cos I'll ride again.

I am a river gambler, I make a livin' dealin' cards.
My clothes are smooth and honest, my heart is cold and hard.
I was shufflin' for some delta boys on a boat for New Orleans,
I was the greatest shark they'd ever seen.
But the Captain bumped a sandbar, and an ace fell from my sleeve.
They threw me overboard as I swore I didn't cheat,
But I could swim:
And I'll ride again.

We are heroes of the homeland, American remains.
We live in many faces and answer many names.
We will not be forgotten, we won't be left behind.
Our memories live on in mortal minds.
And poets pens:
We'll ride again.

I am a mid-west farmer, I make a livin' off the land,
I ride a John Deere tractor, I'm a liberated man.
But the rain it hasn't fallen, since the middle of July,
And if it don't come soon my crops will die.
The bank man says he likes me, but there's nothin' he can do.
He tells me that he's comin' but the clouds are comin' too.
He ain't my friend:
And I'll ride again.

I am an American Indian, my tribe is Cherokee.
My forefathers loved this land they left it here for me.
But the white man came with boats and trains and dirty factories,
An' poisened my existence with his deeds.
Nature is our mother, we are sucklings at her breast.
And he who trys to beat her down will lose her to the rest.
They'll never win;
I'll ride again.

We are heroes of the homeland, American remains.
We live in many faces and answer many names.
We will not be forgotten, we won't be left behind.
Our memories live on in mortal minds.
And poets pens:
We'll ride again.