The City Of New Orleans lyrics by Arlo Guthrie
Riding onthe "City of New Orleans"
Illinois Central,
Monday mornin' rail
Fifteen cars and
fifteen restless riders
three conductors,
twenty~five sacks of mail
Out on the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out of Kankakee
Rolling past the houses,
farms and fields
Passing towns that have no name
The freight yards
full of old black men
And the graveyards of
the rusted automobiles
Good morning America
How are ya?
And 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 keeping score
Pass the paper bag
that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels
rumbling 'neath the floor
And the sons of Pullman Forbes
and the sons of engineers
ride their father's magic
carpets made of steel
And mothers
with their babes asleep
a'rockin' to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rail
is all they hear
Good morning America
How are ya?
And 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 mornin'
Thru the Mississippi
darkness rollin' down to the sea
But all the towns and cities
seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rail
still ain't heard the news
The conductor
sings his songs again
The passengers
will please refrain
This train's got the
disappearing railroad blues
Good morning America
How are ya?
Ah, 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
