City Of New Orleans

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

All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee

And rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passing trains that have no name and graveyards full of old black men

And graveyards full 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 five hundred miles when the day is done

Dealin' cards with an old man at the club car

Many a point ain't no one keepin' score

Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle

And feel the wheels a rumbling neath the floor

And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineers

Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel

Mothers with their babes asleep rockin' to that gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Good morning America...

[ guitar ]

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

And 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 his songs again the passengers will please refrain

This train has got the disappearing railroad blues

Good morning America...