House Of The Rising 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 one

My mother

was a

a tailor. She 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.

It's the house of the rising sun.

I've got one foot on the platform.

The other foot on the frame

I'm going back to New Orleans

To wear that ball I changed

And God, you know I won