There is a house in New Orleans
They call the 'Rising Sun'
And it's been the ruin of many a young poor boy
And, God, I know I'm one

My mother was a tailor
Sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans

Now the only thing he ever needs
Is a suitcase and a 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
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun

With one foot on the platform
And the other foot on the train
I know he's back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain

Well there is a house in New Orleans
They call the 'Rising Sun'
And its been the ruin of many a young poor boy
And God, I know I'm one

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun.
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl,
and me, O God, for one.

If I had listened what Mamma said,
I'd 'a' been 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.

My mother she's a tailor;
she sold those new blue jeans.
My sweetheart, he's a drunkard, Lord, Lord,
drinks down in New Orleans.
The only thing a drunkard needs
is a suitcase and a trunk.
The only time he's satisfied
is when he's on a drunk.

Fills his glasses to the brim,
passes them around
only pleasure he gets out of life
is hoboin' from town to town.

One foot is on the platform
and the other one on the train.
I'm going back to New Orleans
to wear that ball and chain.

Going back to New Orleans,
my race is almost run.
Going back to spend the rest of my days
beneath that Rising Sun.