Arlo Gunthrie City Of New Orleans Lyrics

City Of New Orleans Lyrics

Riding on the City of New Orleans, 

 Illinois Central Monday morning rail 

 Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders, 

 Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail. 

 All along the southbound odyssey 

 The train pulls out at Kankakee 

 Rolls along past houses, farms and fields. 

 Passin' trains that have no names, 

 Freight yards full of old black men 

 And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles. 

  

 CHORUS: 

 Good morning America how are you? 

 Don't you know me I'm your native son, 

 I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans, 

 I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done. 

  

 Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car. 

 Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score. 

 Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle 

 Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor. 

 And the sons of pullman porters 

 And the sons of engineers 

 Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel. 

 Mothers with their babes asleep, 

 Are rockin' to the gentle beat 

 And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel. 

  

 CHORUS 

  

 Nighttime on The City of New Orleans, 

 Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee. 

 Half way home, we'll be there by morning 

 Through the Mississippi darkness 

 Rolling down to the sea. 

 And all the towns and people seem 

 To fade into a bad dream 

 And the steel rails still ain't heard the news. 

 The conductor sings his song again, 

 The passengers will please refrain 

 This train's got the disappearing railroad blues. 

  

 Good night, America, how are you? 

 Don't you know me I'm your native son, 

 I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans, 

 I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done