The House of the Rising Sun
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There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun
Been the ruin of a many a poor gal and me, oh God, I'm one
If I'd listened to what mama said I'd have been at home today
Being so young and foolish, poor boy, I let a gambler lead me astray
My mother she's a tailor, she sewed those new blue jeans
My sweetheart he's a drunkard, Lord, drinks down in New Orleans
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
Fills his glasses to the brim, passes them around
The only pleasure that he gets out of
Life is a-ho-going from town to town
Go tell my baby sister never do like I have done
To shun that house in New Orleans that they call the Rising Sun
One foot's on the platform, the other on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain
Going back to New Orleans, my time is almost done
Going back to spend my life beneath that Rising Sun