|
There is a house in New Orleans |
|
They call it the Rising Sun |
|
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl |
|
And me, oh God, I'm oneIf I had only listened of what my mama said |
|
I'd be at home today |
|
But bein' so young and foolish, my Lord |
|
Let a gambler lead me astrayNow, my mother is a tailor |
|
She sews those new blue jeans |
|
And my sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord |
|
Drinks down in New OrleansNow the only thing a drunken man needs |
|
Is a suitcase and a trunk |
|
And the only time he's satisfied |
|
Lord, is when he's on the runSomebody, go get my baby sister |
|
Tell her to do what I have done |
|
But shun that house in New Orleans |
|
They call it the Rising SunWell, I'm goin' back to New Orleans |
|
My race is almost run |
|
Yes, I'm goin' back to spend my life |
|
Beneath, beneath, the rising |
