THERE IS A HOUSE IN NEW ORLEANS,
THEY CALL THE RISING SUN.
AND IT’S BEEN THE RUIN OF MANY A POOR BOY,
AND GOD I KNOW I’M ONE.
MY MOTHER WAS A TAILOR,
SHE SOLD MY NEW BLUE JEANS.
MY FATHER WAS A GAMBLIN’ MAN,
DOWN IN NEW ORLEANS.
NOW THE ONLY THING A GAMBLER NEEDS IS
A SUITCASE AND A DRUM.
AND THE ONLY TIME HE’LL BE SATISFIED
IS WHEN HE’S ON THE DRUM.
OH MOTHER, TELL YOUR CHILDREN,
NOT TO DO WHAT I HAVE DONE.
SPEND YOUR LIVES IN SIN AND MISERY
IN THE HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN.
WELL I’VE GOT ONE FOOT ON THE PLATFORM,
THE OTHER ON THE TRAIN. I’M GOING
BACK TO NEW ORLEANS
TO WEAR THAT BALL AND CHAIN.....
THERE IS A HOUSE IN NEW ORLEANS,
THEY CALL THE RI