"The Risin' Sun"
:: l y r i c s ::
There is a house in New'a'lins
They call the Rising Sun.
It's been a ruin of many a poor boy,
and me, O God, for one.

If I'd of listened to what Mamma said,
I'd 'a' been at home today.
Being so young and foolish, poor boy,
let a rambler lead me astray.

Go tell my baby sister
not do like I have done
to shun that house in New'a'lins
they call the Rising Sun.

My mother she's a tailor;
she sowed those new blue jeans.
My father's he's a drunkard Lawd,
drinks down in New'a'lins

The only thing a drunkard needs
is a suitcase and a trunk.
The only time he's satisfied
is when he's on a drunk.

One foot is on the platform
the other one on the train.
I'm going back to New'a'lins
to wear that ball and chain.

Going back to New'a'lins,
my race is almost run.
Going back to spend the rest of my days
beneath that Rising Sun.

(repeat last two verses)


©2007 RC Andrews