Lyrics
Ridin' on the 'City of New Orleans'
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail,
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail
On a long southbound, hard to see (?) the train pull down at Kentucky
It rolls along past houses farms and fields
Passing trains that have no names and
Freight yards full them old black bins (?)
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles
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'
And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Dealing cards with the old man in the club car
(?), ain't no one keepin' it slow
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumble beneath the floor
(?)
Ride your father's magic carpet made of steel
Mothers with their babies asleep, rockin' 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'
And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans"
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, we'll be there by morning
Thru the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea
But all the towns that people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't hurt to do
The conductor sings his songs again
The passengers will (?)
The train has got the dissappearing railroad bloom
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 500 miles when the day is done
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail,
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail
On a long southbound, hard to see (?) the train pull down at Kentucky
It rolls along past houses farms and fields
Passing trains that have no names and
Freight yards full them old black bins (?)
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles
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'
And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Dealing cards with the old man in the club car
(?), ain't no one keepin' it slow
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumble beneath the floor
(?)
Ride your father's magic carpet made of steel
Mothers with their babies asleep, rockin' 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'
And I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans"
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, we'll be there by morning
Thru the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea
But all the towns that people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't hurt to do
The conductor sings his songs again
The passengers will (?)
The train has got the dissappearing railroad bloom
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 500 miles when the day is done