|
There is a house in New Orleans, |
|
They call the Rising Sun, |
|
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, |
|
And God I know I'm one. |
|
My mother was a tailor, |
|
She sewed my new bluejeans, |
|
My father was a gamblin man, |
|
Down in New Orleans. |
|
Now the only thing a gambler needs, |
|
Is a suitcase and trunk, |
|
And the only time he's satisfied, |
|
Is when he's on a drunk. |
|
Oh mother tell your children, |
|
Not to do what I have done: |
|
To spend your lifes in sin and misery, |
|
In the house of the Rising Sun. |
|
Well i got one foot on the platform, |
|
The other foot on the train, |
|
I'm going back to New Orleans, |
|
To wear that ball and chain. |
|
Well, there is a house in New Orleans, |
|
They call the Rising Sun, |
|
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, |
|
And god I know I'm one. |