|
There is a house down in New Orleans |
|
They call the risin' sun |
|
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl |
|
And me, oh god, I'm a-one |
|
My mother was a tailor |
|
She sewed these new blue jeans |
|
My sweetheart was a gambler, Lord |
|
Down in New Orleans |
|
Now the only thing a gambler needs |
|
Is a suitcase and a trunk |
|
And the only time he's satisfied |
|
Is when he's on a drunk |
|
He fills his glasses up to the brim |
|
And hell pass the cards around |
|
And the only pleasure he gets out of life |
|
Is ramblin' from town to town |
|
Oh tell my baby sister |
|
Not to do what I have done |
|
But shun that house in New Orleans |
|
They call the risin' sun |
|
Well, it's one foot on the platform |
|
And the other foot on the train |
|
I'm goin' back to New Orleans |
|
To wear that ball and chain |
|
I'm a-goin' back to New Orleans |
|
My race is almost run |
|
I'm goin' back to end my life |
|
Down in the risin' sun |
|
There is a house in New Orleans |
|
They call the risin' sun |
|
Its been the ruin of many poor girl |
|
And me, oh God, I'm a-one |