House of the Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Rising Sun

It's been the ruin of many a poor girl

And me, oh God, was one

My mother, she's a tailor

She sews those old blue jeans

My father, he's a gamblin' man

Drinks down in New Orleans

Well the only thing that a gambler needs

Is a suitcase and a trunk

And the only thing that a gambler likes

Is to get on a great big drunk

Go tell my baby sister

Not to do like I have done

You shun that house in New Orleans

They call it the Rising Sun

I'm goin' back to New Orleans

My race is almost run

I'm goin' to spend the rest of my life

Beneath that rising sun

One foot is on the platform

And the other one's on the train

I'm goin' to spend the rest of my life

Beneath that ball and chain