There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun It has been the ruin of many a poor girl And me, oh, God, was one My mother was a tailor, She sewed them new blue jeans. My lover he was a gambler, Oh Lord Gambled down in New Orleans. My husband was a gambling man He went from town to town; And the only time he was satisfied Was when he drank his liquor down. Now the only thing a gambling man needs Is a suitcase and a trunk; And the only time he's ever satisfied I when he's on a drunk Go and tell my baby sister Never do like I have done, But to shun that house in New Orleans That they call the Rising Sun With one foot on the platform, And one foot on the train I'm goin' back to New Orleans To wear the ball and chain. I'm going back to New Orleans My race is almost run; I'm going back to spend the rest of my life Beneath that Rising Sun.