City of New Orleans

Riding on the

City of New

OrleansIllinois

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 at

KankakeeAnd rolls along past houses, farms and fields

Passin' trains that have no names and freight yards full of old black men

And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Good morning

America how are you?

See, 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' card games with the old men in the club car

Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor

And the sons of pullman porters and the sons of engineers

Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel

Mothers with their babes asleep are rockin' to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Good morning

America how are you?

See, 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 five hundred miles when the day is done

Nighttime 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

But 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 song again, the passengers will please refrain

This train's got the disappearing railroad blues

Good morning

America how are you?

See, 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 five hundred miles when the day is done