Riding on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail
Got fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty five sacks of mail
We're all out on the southbound odyssey
As the train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls in past the houses, farms and fields
Passing towns that have no name
And freight yards full of old black men
And then graveyards of rusted automobiles
Singing good morning America, how are you?
Yeah 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 five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealing card games with the old men in the club cars
And this penny a point, there ain't no one keeping score
Won't you pass the paper bag that holds the bottle?
You can hear the wheels a-rumbling through the floor
And the sons of Pullman porters, and the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steel
And the mothers with their babes asleep
There rocking to the gentle beat
The rhythm of the rails is all they dream
Singing good morning America, how are you?
Yeah 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 five hundred miles when day is done
♪
Midnight on the City of New Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
We're halfway home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness, rolling to the sea
In all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
The old steel rail, it ain't heard the news
Conductor sings his song again
The passengers will please refrain
Well this train's got the disappearin' railroad blues
Singin' goodnight America, how are you?
Yeah 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 a long, long time when the day is done
Singin' goodnight America, how are you?
Yeah 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 a long, long time when day is done