City Of New Orleans

Steve Goodman

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  S1:
  Ridin' on the City of New Orleans 

  Illinois Central, monday mornin' rail  

  There's fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders 

  And three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail
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  B1:
  They're out on a southbound odyssey and the train pulls out of Kankakee 

  Rolls past the houses, farms, and fields 

  And passing towns that have no name and freight yards full of old black men 

  And the graveyards of rusted automobiles
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  R1:
  Singin' good mornin' America, how are you  

  And don't you know me, I'm your native son  

  I'm just the train they call the City of New Orleans  

  I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done
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  S2:
  I was dealin' cards with the old men in the club car 

  And it's penny a point, there ain't nobody keepin' score  

  Won't you pass that paper bag that holds the tequila 

  You can feel the wheels grumblin' beneath the floor
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  B2:
  The sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers 

  All ride their daddy's magic carpet and it's made of steel 

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

  And the rhythm of the rails is all they dream
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  R1:
  Singing' good mornin' America, how are you 

  And don't you know me, I'm your native son  

  I'm just the train they call the City of New Orleans 

  I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done
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  M1:
  x--x--x--x x--x--x--x  

  x--x--x--x x--x--x--x  

  x--x--x--x x--x--x--x  

  x--x--x--x x--x--x-
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  S3:
  It's night time on the City of New Orleans 

  And we're changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee  

  All a halfway home, we'll be there by morning 

  Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' to the sea
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  B3:
  All the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream 

  And the old steel rail it ain't heard the news 

  The conductor sings that song again, it's passengers will please refrain 

  This train has got the disappearin' railroad blues
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  R2:
  Good night America, how are you 

  And don't you know me, I'm your native son  

  I'm just the train they call the City of New Orleans 

  I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done
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  D1:
  Good night America, how are you 

  And don't you know me, I'm your native son  

  I'm just the train they call the City of New Orleans 

  Gone a long long time when day is done  

  x--x--x--x x