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City of New Orleans - Arlo Guthrie
Riding on the city of new Orleans
Illinois central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors 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
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles
Good morning America how are ya
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 five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealing cards to the old men in the club car
Penny a point ain't no one keeping score
Pass the paper bap that holds the bottle
You can feel the wheels rumbling neath the floor
The sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep
Are rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel
Good morning America how are ya
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 five hundred miles when the day is done
Night time on the city of new Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
Halfway 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
The steel rails still ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again
Passengers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues
Good night America how are ya
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 five hundred miles when the day is done
Good night America how are ya
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 five hundred miles when the day is done
