City of New Orleans

Riding on the City of New Orleans

Illinios Central, Monday morning rail

15 cars and 15 restless riders

3 conductors and 25 sacks of mail

All along a southbound odyssey

The train pulls out of Kankakee

Rolls along past houses, farms and fields

Passing trains that have no name

Freight yards full of old black men

The graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Singing good morning America, how are you?

Saying, don't you know me Im your native son?

Im the train they call the City of New Orleans

I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is don

Dealing cards with the old men in the club car

Penny a point, aint no one keeping score

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels a rumbling neath the floor

And the sons of Pullman porters

And the sons of engineers

Ride their fathers magic carpet made of steel

And mothers with their babes asleep

Rockin to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Singing good morning America, how are you?

Saying dont you know me, I'm your native son?

Im the train they call the City of New Orleans

Ill be gone 500 miles when the day is done

Nighttime on the City of New Orleans

Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee

Halfway home and well 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 aint heard the news

The conductor sings his song again

The passengers will please refrain

This train has got the disappearing railroad blues

Singing good morning America, how are you?

Saying dont you know me, I'm your native son?

Im the train they call the City of New Orleans

Ill be gone 500 miles when the day is done