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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.
My mother was a tailor,
She sewed my new 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'll be 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 one on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
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
poor poor boy
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