There is a house in New Orleans
they call the Rising Sun.
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
and God I know I'm one.
My mother was a tailor,
sewed my new blue jeans.
My father was a gambling man
down in New Orleans.
Now the only thing a gambler needs
is a suitcase and a trunk.
And the only time he's satisfied
is when he's on a drunk.
Oh mother, tell your children
not to do what I have done,
spend your lives in sin and misery
in the House of the Rising Sun.
Well, I got one foot on the platform,
the other foot on the train.
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
to wear that ball and chain.
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