Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail 15 cars and 15 restless riders 3 conductors and 24 sacks of mail All along the southbound odyssey the train rolls out of Kankakee And moves along past houses farms and fields Passin' trains that have no name and switchyards full of old black men Of graveyards full of rusted automobiles Good mornin' America how are you say don't ya know me I'm your native son I'm a train they call the City of New Orleans I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done Dealin' cards with an old man on the club car many a point nobody's keepin' score Hey now pass that paper bag that holds the bottle And feel the wheels a rumblin' neath the floor And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineers Ride their daddy's magic carpet made of steel Mothers with their babies asleep rockin' to that gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel Night time on the City of New Orleans changin' cars in Memphis Tennessee Half way home and we'll be there by mornin' Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' 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 disappearin' railroad bluesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
