Bob Dylan /

House of 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.

My mother was a tailor,
She sewed my new blue jeans.
My sweetheart was a gambler,
Down in New Orleans.

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

He fills his glasses up to the brim,
And he'll pass the cards around.
And the only pleasure he gets out of life,
Is ramblin' from town to town.

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

Well it's one foot on the platform,
The other foot on the train.
I'm goin' back to New Orleans,
To wear that ball and chain.

I'm a goin' back to New Orleans,
My race is almost run.
I'm goin' 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.