There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Risin' Sun

Been the ruin of a many a poor gal

And me oh God I'm one

If I'd a-listened what mama said

I'd a-been at home today

Being so young and foolish poor boy

I let a gambler lead me astray

My mother she's a tailor

She sewed those new blue jeans

My sweetheart he's a drunkard Lord

Drinks down in New Orleans

The only thing a drunkard needs

Is a suitcase and a trunk;

The only time he's satisfied

Is when he's on a drunk

Fills his glasses to the brim

Passes them around

The only pleasure that he gets out of life

Is a-hoboin' from town to town

Go tell my baby sister

Never do like I have done

To shun that house in the New Orleans

That they call the Risin' Sun

One foot's on the platform

The other on the train

I'm going back to New Orleans

To wear that ball and chain

Going back to New Orleans

My time is almost done;

Going back to spend my life

Beneath that Rising Sun