House Of The Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans
They call, the Rising Sun
It’s been the ruin of many poor girl
And me, oh God, I’m one
My mother, she’s a tailor
She sews those new blue jeans
My husband, he’s a gambling man
Drinks down in New Orleans
Yes, my husband, he’s a gambler
He goes from town to town
And the only time he’s satisfied
Is when he drinks his liquor down
Go tell my baby sister
Never do like I have done
To shun that house in New Orleans
They call, the Rising Sun
One foot’s on the platform
And the other’s on the train
I’m going down to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Going back to New Orleans
My race is almost run
I’m going to spend the rest of my life
Beneath that Rising Sun