City of New Orleans
Steve Goodman / Arlo Guthrie (1972)
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| Riding on the | City of New | Orleans, | Illinois Central, | Monday morning | rail. |
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| Fifteen cars and | fifteen restless | riders, Three | conductors, and | twenty-five sacks of | mail. |
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All | slong the southbound odyssey -- The | train pulls out of Kankakee |
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And | rolls along the houses, farms and | fields. |
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| Passing trains that have no name -- And | freight yards full of old black men |
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And | graveyards of the | rusted auto | mobiles. |
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| Good morning | America, how | are you? Say | don't you know me, | I'm your native | son. | |
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I'm the | train they call the | City of New | Orleans, I'll be | gone five | hundred | miles when the day is | done. |
Dealing card games with the old men in the club cars, A penny a point, ain't no one keeping score. | |
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle, And feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor. | |
And the sons of Pullman porters -- And the sons of engineers | |
Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steel. | |
Mothers with their babes asleep -- Rocking to the gentle beat | |
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel. | |
Good morning America, how are you? Say 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. | |
Nighttime on the City of New Orleans, Changing cars in Memphis, Tennesee. | |
Halfway home, and we'll be there by morning, Through the Misissippi darkness, rolling down to the sea. | |
But all the towns and people seem -- To fade into a bad dream | |
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 disappearin' railroad blues. | |
Goodnight America, how are you? Say 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. | |
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