There is a house in New Orleans, they call the rising sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy and me, oh I know, I'm one
My mother was a tailor, she sewed my New Orleans (yeah she did)
My father was a gambling man, way down in new blue jeans
Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time when he's satisfied is when he's on a drunk
Mother, tell your children, not to do what I have done
But shun that house
In New Orleans
They call the rising sun
(Sick synth solo)
Well it's one foot on the platform
And the other 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 end my life down in the rising sun