There isa house
in New Orleans
They callthe Ri-sing Sun
And it's beenthe ruin
of manya poor boy
And GodI knowI'm one

My mo-ther wasa tailor
Sewedmy newblue jeans
My fat-her wasgamblin'man
Down inThe New Orleans

Nowthe only thing
a gambler needs
Is a suitcaseand a trunk
Andthe only time
he'll be satis-fied
Is whenhe's alla-drunk

Oh mother,tell your children
Not to dowhat Ihave done
Spendyour lives
in sin and misery
In the house
of the Rising Sun


I've gotone foot
on the platform
The ot-herfoot
 on the train
I'm go-ing back
to New Orleans
To wearthat balland chain

Well
there isa house
in New Orleans
They callthe Ri-sing Sun
And it's beenthe ruin
of manya poor boy
And GodI knowI'm one...[start]../song/8/8655.MID[stop]