City of New Orleans sing and play along

Ridin' on the City of

New Orleans, Illinois Central Monday mornin' rail.

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,

three conductors and twentyfive sacks of mail;

All along the southbound Odyssey, the train pulls out of Kankakee and rolls along the houses,

farms and fields.

Passin' towns that have no name and freightyards full of old black men,

and the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

Good morn A 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.

Dealin' Ridin' on the City of

New Orleans, Illinois Central

Monday mornin' rail.

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,

three conductors and twentyfive sacks of mail;

All along the southbound

Odyssey, the train pulls out of Kankakee and rolls along the houses,

farms and fields.

Passin' towns that have no name and freightyards full of old black men,

and the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

Good morn A America, how are you?

Said 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.

Dealin' done.

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