House Of The Risin’ Sun

There is a house in New Orleans

They call the rising sun

And it's been the ruin of many

poor boy and God I know

I'm worn

My mother

was a

a tailor. She sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a camper man down in New Orleans.

Now, the only thing a gambler needs is a sewer case and a trunk

And the only time he's satisfied is when he's on a drunk