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 Lord, I'm one
If I'd listened what my mama said
I'd be at home today
Bein' so young
And foolish, my Lord
Let a gambler lead me astray
My mother was a tailor
She sews new blue jeans
And my sweetheart's is a drunker, 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 satisfied
Oh it's when hes on a drunk
Somebody get go my baby sister
Tell her to do Never to do what I have done
Shun that house in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
Well I'm goin' back to New Orleans
My Race is almost run
Yes I'm goin' back to spend my life
Beneath, beneath, beneath, oh Lord
Beneath, oh now
Beneath the rising, rising sun
Now, now
You come on bye
Writer(s): Dp, Libby Reynolds Holmes, Josh White, Nicholas Ray
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