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There is a house in New Orleans,
they call the rising sun.
It`s been the ruin for many a poor girl,
And me, oh God, for one.

If I had listened to what my mother said,
I`d have been at home today,
but I was young and foolish, oh, God,
Let a rambler lead me astray.

Go tell my baby sister,
Don't do what I have done,
but shun that house in New Orleans,
they call the Rising Sun.

I`m going back to New Orleans,
My race is almost run.
I`m going back to spend my life
Beneath that rising sun.

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