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, for one If I had listened to what my mama said I'd be at home today But I was young and foolish, poor girl Let a gambler lead me astray My mother, she is a tailor She sews those old blue jeans My father, he's a gamblin' man Drinks down in New Orleans Go tell my baby sister Not to do as I have done You shun that house in New Orleans They call it the Rising Sun Well, I'm going back to New Orleans My race is almost run I'm going to spend the rest of my days Beneath that Rising Sun Well, one foot is on the platform And the other one's on the train I'm going to spend the rest of my days Wearing that ball and chain
