There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun,
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl,
And me, oh god I'm one.

My mother was a tailor.
She sewed those new blue jeans.
My lover was a gambling one.
Down in New Orleans.

Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk

He fills his glasses up to the brim,
And push those cards around.
The only pleasure he gets out of life
Is rambling from town to town.

Now tell my baby sister,
Not to do what I have done.
But shun that house in New Orleans,
They call the Rising Sun.

Got one foot on the platform
The other foot on that train
I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain

I'm going back to New Orleans
The aged-old soul have run
I'm going back to end my life,
Down in the Rising Sun.

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun,
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl,
And me, oh god I'm one.

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Alan Price