There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And its been the ruin of many a poor girl
And me, oh god, Im a-one
My mother, was a tailor
She sewed those new blue jeans
My sweetheart was a gambler, lord
Down in New Orleans
The only thing that a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk.
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 rambling from town to town.
Oh tell my baby, sista
Not to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
And the other one on the train.
I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain.
I'm going back to New Orleans,
My race is almost run.
I'm going back to the end of my life
Beneath that Rising Sun.
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