There is a house in New Orleans, call it the Rising Sun And it's been the run of many poor girls and me Oh Lord, I'm wondering if I listened to what my mama said To be at home today I've been so young and foolish, my Lord Let a gambler lead me astray My mother is a tailor She sews new blue jeans My sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord Drinks down in New Orleans Go tell my main sister Never do what I have done There's a charm in that house in New Orleans Call it the Rising Sun I'm going back to New Orleans The place is almost warm I'm not going back to spend my life here Beneath, beneath, oh Lord Beneath, oh now Beneath the Rising, Rising Sun Now, now, mmm, oh Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm
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