The House of the Rising Sun - Dick Annegarn

There is a House in New Orleans

They call it the Rising Sun.

It’s been the ruin of many a poor boys,

And me, Lord, I’m a one.

My mother she was a tailor;

She sewed my new blue jean.

My father, he is was a gambling man

Down in New Orleans.

One foot is on the platform

And the other is on the train.

I’m going back to were I come from

To wear that ball and chain.

I’m going back to New Orleans,

My race is almost run.

Going back to spend the rest of my life

Down the Rising Sun.