There is a house in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl
And me, oh God, I'm one
If I had only listened of what my mama said
I'd be at home today
But bein' so young and foolish, my Lord
Let a gambler lead me astray
Now, my mother is a tailor
She sews those new blue jeans
And my sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord
Drinks down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a drunken man needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
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