歌词
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans
I llinois Central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past houses farms and fields
Passing trains that have no name
And graveyards full of old black men
And graveyards full 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 five hundred miles
When the day is done
Dealin' cards with an old man at the club car
Many a point ain't no one keepin' score
Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle
And feel the wheels a rumbling neath the floor
And the sons of poor men porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep
Rockin' to that 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 five hundred miles
When the day is done
Night time on the City of New Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
Half way home we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling 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 songs again
The passengers will please refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
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 five hundred miles
When the day is done