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City of New Orleans - John Denver (约翰·丹佛)
Written by：Steve Goodman
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail
All along a southbound odyssey
And the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past the houses farms and fields
Passin' towns that have no names
And freightyards full of old grey men
The graveyards of the rusted automobiles
Singin' good mornin' America how are you
Sayin' 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
Dealin' cards 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 a rumblin' through the floor
And the son's of Pullman Porter's
And the son's of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
And mothers with their babes asleep
Rockin' to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel
Singin' good mornin' America how are you
Sayin' 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 and 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 has got the disappearing railroad blues
Singin' good mornin' America how are you
Sayin' 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
