House of the Rising Sun

House of the Rising Sun - Woodie Guthrie

There is a house in New Orleans

You call the Rising Sun

It's been the ruin of many a poor soul

And me oh God I'm one

If I'd listened to what mama said

I'd be at home today

Being so young and foolish poor girl

I let a gambler lead me astray

My mother she's a tailor

Sews those new blue jeans

My sweetheart he's a drunkard Lord God

He drinks down in New Orleans

He fills his glasses to the brim

Passes them around

The only pleasure that he gets out of life

Is a-hoboin' from town to town

The only thing a drunkard needs

Is a suitcase and a trunk

The only time that he's half satisfied

Is when he's on a drunk

Go and tell my baby sister

Never do like I have done

Shun that house down in New Orleans

That they call that Rising Sun

It's one foot on the platform

One foot on the train

I'm going back down to New Orleans

To wear my ball and my chain

My life is almost over

My race is almost run

Going back down to New Orleans

To that house of the Rising Sun