歌曲 | City of New Orleans |
歌手 | Arlo Guthrie |
专辑 | Hobo's Lullaby |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Goodman | |
City of New Orleans | |
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans | |
Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail | |
15 cars & 15 restless riders | |
Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail | |
All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee | |
Rolls along past houses, farms & fields | |
Passin' trains that have no names, freight yards full of old black men | |
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Don't you know me? I'm your native son! | |
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans | |
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done | |
Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car | |
Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score | |
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle | |
And feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor | |
And the sons of Pullman porters & the sons of engineers | |
Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel | |
Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat | |
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Say don't you know me? I'm your native son! | |
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. | |
Night time on the City of New Orleans | |
Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee | |
Halfway home, we'll be there by mornin' | |
Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea | |
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream | |
And the steel rail still ain't heard the news | |
The conductor sings his songs again | |
"The passengers will please refrain: | |
This train got the disappea rin' railroad blues | |
Good night America, how are you? | |
Say don't you know me? I'm your native son! | |
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. |
zuo ci : Goodman | |
City of New Orleans | |
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans | |
Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail | |
15 cars 15 restless riders | |
Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail | |
All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee | |
Rolls along past houses, farms fields | |
Passin' trains that have no names, freight yards full of old black men | |
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done | |
Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car | |
Penny a point, ain' t no one keepin' score | |
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle | |
And feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor | |
And the sons of Pullman porters the sons of engineers | |
Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel | |
Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat | |
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Say don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. | |
Night time on the City of New Orleans | |
Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee | |
Halfway home, we' ll be there by mornin' | |
Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea | |
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream | |
And the steel rail still ain' t heard the news | |
The conductor sings his songs again | |
" The passengers will please refrain: | |
This train got the disappea rin' railroad blues | |
Good night America, how are you? | |
Say don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. |
zuò cí : Goodman | |
City of New Orleans | |
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans | |
Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail | |
15 cars 15 restless riders | |
Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail | |
All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee | |
Rolls along past houses, farms fields | |
Passin' trains that have no names, freight yards full of old black men | |
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done | |
Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car | |
Penny a point, ain' t no one keepin' score | |
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle | |
And feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor | |
And the sons of Pullman porters the sons of engineers | |
Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel | |
Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat | |
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel | |
Good mornin' America, how are you? | |
Say don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. | |
Night time on the City of New Orleans | |
Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee | |
Halfway home, we' ll be there by mornin' | |
Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea | |
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream | |
And the steel rail still ain' t heard the news | |
The conductor sings his songs again | |
" The passengers will please refrain: | |
This train got the disappea rin' railroad blues | |
Good night America, how are you? | |
Say don' t you know me? I' m your native son! | |
I' m the train they call the City of New Orleans. | |
I' ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. |