There is a house in New Orleans 
You call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor soul 
And me, oh God, I'm one 

If I'd listened to what mama said 
I'd be at home today 
Being so young and foolish, poor girl 
I let a gambler lead me astray 

My mother she's a tailor 
Sews those new blue jeans 
My sweetheart, he's a drunkard, Lord God 
He drinks down in New Orleans

He fills his glasses to the brim 
Passes them around
The only pleasure that he gets out of life 
Is a hoboin' from town to town 

The only thing a drunkard needs 
Is a suitcase and a trunk 
The only time that he's half satisfied 
Is when he's on a drunk

Go and tell my baby sister 
Never do like I have done 
Shun that house down in New Orleans 
That they call that Rising Sun. 

It's one foot on the platform, 
One foot on the train. 
I'm going back down to New Orleans 
To wear my ball and my chain 

My life is almost over
My race is almost run
Going back down to New Orleans 
To that house of the Rising Sun

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