House Of The Risin' Sun - Rising Sun Blues

There are a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
Where many poor boy to destruction has gone
And me, oh God, are one

Just fill a glass up to the brim
Let the drinks go merrily round
We'll drink to the light of a rounder, poor boy
Who goes from town to town

All in this world does a rambler want
Is a suitcase and a trunk
The only time he's satisfied
Is when he's all a drunk

Now boys, don't believe, what a young girl tells you
Let her eyes be blue or brown
Unless she's on some scaffold height
Sayin "Boys, I can't come down"

I'm going back to New Orleans
For the race is almost run
To spend the rest of my weaked life
Beneath the Rising Sun



Credits
Writer(s): Publico Dominio, Alan Price
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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