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
Sewed my new blue jeans
My father was gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he'll be satisfied
Is when he's all a-drunk
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
Light E.G. soul еще тексты
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- Light E.G. soul - Дом, стоящий там - Дом восходящего солнца (0)
- Light E.G. soul - House, standing there (0)
- Light E.G. Soul - House Of The Rising Sun (0)
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