There is a House in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor boys
And me, Lord, I'm a one
My mother she was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jean
My father, he is was a gambling man
Down in New Orleans
One foot is on the platform
And the other is on the train
I'm going back to were I come from
To wear that ball and chain
I'm going back to New Orleans
My race is almost run
Going back to spend the rest of my life
Down the Rising Sun