There is a house in New Orleans They call it the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl And me, oh God, I'm one
If I had only listened of what my mama said I'd be at home today But bein' so young and foolish, my Lord Let a gambler lead me astray
Now, my mother is a tailor She sews those new blue jeans And my sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord Drinks down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a drunken man needs Is a suitcase and a trunk And the only time he's satisfied Lord, is when he's on the drunk
Somebody go get my baby sister Tell her not to do, never to do what I have done But shun that house in New Orleans They call it the Rising Sun 7g Well, I'm goin' back to New Orleans My race is almost run Yes, I'm goin' back to spend my life Beneath, beneath, the rising sun