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 what Mama said,
I'd be at home today.
Being so young and foolish, poor boy,
Let a rambler lead me astray.
Go tell my baby sister
Never do like I have done
To shun that house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun.
Going back to New Orleans,
My race is almost run.
Going back to spend the rest of my days
Beneath that Rising Sun.
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