House of the Rising Sun

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 sewed my new bluejeans,

My father was a gamblin man,

Down in New Orleans.

Now the only thing a gambler needs,

Is a suitcase and trunk,

And the only time he's satisfied,

Is when he's on a drunk.

Oh mother tell your children,

Not to do what I have done:

To spend your lifes in sin and misery,

In the house of the Rising Sun.

Well i got one foot on the platform,

The other foot on the train,

I'm going back to New Orleans,

To wear that ball and chain.

Well, 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