City of New Orleans

Ridin' 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

On a long southbound, hard to see (?) the train pull down at Kentucky

It rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passing trains that have no names and

Freight yards full them old black bins (?)

And the graveyards of rusted automobiles

Good morning America, how are you?

Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son

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

And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done

Dealing cards with the old man in the club car

(?), ain't no one keepin' it slow

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels rumble beneath the floor

(?)

Ride your father's magic carpet made of steel

Mothers with their babies asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Good morning America, how are you?

Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son

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

And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done

Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans"

Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee

Halfway home, we'll be there by morning

Thru the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea

But all the towns that people seem to fade into a bad dream

And the steel rails still ain't hurt to do

The conductor sings his songs again

The passengers will (?)

The train has got the dissappearing railroad bloom

Good morning America, how are you?

Say, 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 500 miles when the day is done