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City Of New Orleans Lyrics - Singles - Arlo Guthrie

Riding on the City Of New Orleans 

Illinois Central, Monday morning rail 

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders 

Three Conductors; 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 freight yards full of old black men 

And the graveyards of the rusted automobile 

 

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 

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

 

Dealing card games with the old man in the Club Car 

Penny a point - ain't no one keeping score 

As the paper bag that holds the bottle 

Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor 

And the sons of Pullman Porters, and the sons of Engineers 

Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel 

And, mothers with their babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat 

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel 

 

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 

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

 

Night time on the City Of New Orleans 

Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee 

Halfway home - we'll 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 rail still ain't heard the news 

The conductor sings his songs again - the passengers will please refrain 

This train got the disappearing railroad blues 

 

Good night, 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 

Writer:

Copyright: A Jurisdad Music, Al Bunetta D, B

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