Intro

Riding 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

All along the south bound odyssey, the train pulls out of Kankakee

Rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passing towns that have no name, freight yards of old black men

And 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

I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Dealing card games with the old men in the club car

Penny a point ain't noone keeping score

Pass the paper bag but holds the bottle

Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor

And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers

Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel

Mothers with her babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel G5 A5

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

I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Night time on the City of New Orleans

Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee

Half way home 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 rail still ain't heard the news

The conductor sings his songs again, the passengers will please refrain

This train´s got the disappearing railroad blues G5 A5

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

Rpt