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John Denver – City Of New Orleans lyrics
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail
There's 15 cars, and 15 restless riders
3 conductors and 25 sacks of mail
All along a southbound oddyssey
And the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past the houses, farms and feilds
Passin' towns that have no names
And freightyards full of old grey men
The grave yards of the rusted automobiles
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car.
Penny a point, aint no one keepin' score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle.
Feel the wheels a rumblin' through the floor.
And the sons of Pullman Porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
And their days are full of restless and their dreams are full of memories
And the and the echos of the freight train whistle's clear
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' don't you know me I'm your native son.
Yes, I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone 500 miles when they day is done.
Night time on the City of new Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
Halfway home and we’ll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain’t heard the news
The conductor sings the song again, the passengers will please refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
Singin' good night America, I love you,
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Singin' good morning America, how are you?
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail
There's 15 cars, and 15 restless riders
3 conductors and 25 sacks of mail
All along a southbound oddyssey
And the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past the houses, farms and feilds
Passin' towns that have no names
And freightyards full of old grey men
The grave yards of the rusted automobiles
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car.
Penny a point, aint no one keepin' score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle.
Feel the wheels a rumblin' through the floor.
And the sons of Pullman Porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel
And their days are full of restless and their dreams are full of memories
And the and the echos of the freight train whistle's clear
Singin' good mornin' America, how are you?
Sayin' don't you know me I'm your native son.
Yes, I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone 500 miles when they day is done.
Night time on the City of new Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
Halfway home and we’ll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain’t heard the news
The conductor sings the song again, the passengers will please refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
Singin' good night America, I love you,
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Singin' good morning America, how are you?
Sayin' 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 500 miles when the day is done.
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/j/john_denver/city_of_new_orleans.html