paroles de chanson City Of New Orleans - Judy Collins
Ridin'
on
the
City
of
New
Orleans
Illinois
Central,
Monday
mornin'
rail
15
cars
and
15
restless
riders
Three
conductors,
25
sacks
of
mail
On
the
southbound
odyssey
the
train
pulls
out
of
Kankakee
Rolls
along
past
houses,
farms
& fields
Passin'
trains
that
have
no
name,
freight
yards
full
of
old
black
men
And
the
graveyards
of
rusted
automobiles
Good
mornin'
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
500
miles
when
the
day
is
done
Dealin'
cards
with
the
old
men
in
the
club
car
A
penny
a
point,
ain't
no
one
keepin'
score
Pass
the
paper
bag
that
holds
the
bottle
And
feel
the
wheels
grumblin'
'neath
the
floor
And
the
sons
of
Pullman
porters
& the
sons
of
engineers
Ride
their
fathers'
magic
carpet
made
of
steel
Mothers
with
their
babes
asleep,
rockin'
to
the
gentle
beat
And
the
rhythm
of
the
rails
is
all
they
feel
Good
mornin'
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
500
miles
when
the
day
is
done
Night
time
on
the
City
of
New
Orleans
Changin'
cars
in
Memphis,
Tennessee
Halfway
home,
we'll
be
there
by
mornin'
Thru
the
Mississippi
darkness
rollin'
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
song
again
"The
passengers
will
please
refrain:
This
train
has
got
the
disappearin'
railroad
blues"
Good
mornin'
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
500
miles
when
the
day
is
done
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