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House of the Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the “Rising Sun”.
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, I’m one.

My mother was a tailor,
She sewed my new blue jeans.
My father was a gambling man
Down in New Orleans.

Now the only thing he ever had
Was a suitcase and a trunk.
And the only time he’s satisfied,
Is when he’s on a drunk.

Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done:
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun.

With one foot on the platform,
The other foot on the train,
I’m going back to New Orleans,
To wear that ball and chain.

Well there is a house in New Orleans,
They call the “Rising Sun”,
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, I’m one.