|
There is a house down in |
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New Orleans |
|
They call the |
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Rising Sun, |
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It's been the ruin of many a poor girl, |
|
And me, oh god |
|
I'm one. My mother was a tailor. |
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She sewed those new blue jeans. |
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My lover was a gambling one. |
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Down in New |
|
Orleans. Now the only thing a gambler needs |
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Is a suitcase and trunk |
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And the only time he's satisfied |
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Is when he's on a drunk |
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He fills his glasses up to the brim, |
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And push those cards around. |
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The only pleasure he gets out of life |
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Is rambling from town to town. |
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Now tell my baby sister, |
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Not to do what |
|
I have done. |
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But shun that house in |
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New Orleans, |
|
They call the |
|
Rising Sun. |
|
Got one foot on the platform |
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The other foot on that train |
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I'm going back to |
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New Orleans |
|
To wear that ball and chain |
|
I'm going back to |
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New Orleans |
|
The aged-old soul have run |
|
I'm going back to end my life, |
|
Down in the |
|
Rising Sun. |
|
There is a house in |
|
New Orleans |
|
They call the |
|
Rising Sun, |
|
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl, |
|
And me, oh god |
|
I'm one. |
