They call the rising sun!
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy.
And God...I know...I'm one.
My mother was a tailor...
She sewed my old blue jeans.
My father was a gamblin' man.
Down in New Orleans
Now...the only thing a gambler needs...
Is a suitcase...and a trunk.
And the only time he's ever satisfied...
Is when he's on a drunk.
Oh...mother tell your children...
"Not to do what I have done...
Spend your lives in sin and misery...
In the house of the rising sun."
Well...I've got one foot on the platform...
The other foot on the train.
I'm goin' back to New Orleans...
To wear that ball and chain.
Well...there is a house in New Orleans...
They call the rising sun.
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy...
And God...I know...I'm one!
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