There is a house in New Orleans,
They call the Rising Sun,
And it's been the ruin of many young poor boys
And, God, I know I'm one.
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gambling man
Way down in New Orleans.
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time to keep him satisfied
Is when he's all drunk.
Oh, mother tell your children
Not to do what I've done
To spend their life in sin and misery
In the house of the Rising Sun.
I got one foot on the platform
The other on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many young poor boys
And, God, I know I'm one.