歌词
Ridin' on the 'City of New Orleans'
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail,
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Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
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Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail
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On a long southbound, hard to see (?) the train pull down at Kentucky
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It rolls along past houses farms and fields
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Passing trains that have no names and
Freight yards full them old black bins (?)
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles
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Good morning America, how are you?
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Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son
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I'm the train they call the 'City of New Orleans'
And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
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Dealing cards with the old man in the club car
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(?), ain't no one keepin' it slow
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Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
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Feel the wheels rumble beneath the floor
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(?)
Ride your father's magic carpet made of steel
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Mothers with their babies asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat
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And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel
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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"
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Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
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Halfway home, we'll be there by morning
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Thru the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea
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But all the towns that people seem to fade into a bad dream
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And the steel rails still ain't hurt to do
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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