Tim O’Brien
House of the Risin’ Sun
There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I’m one
If I had listened to what my momma said
I'd be back home today
But I was young and foolish
I let a gambler lead me astray
Now my mother, she's a tailor
She sowed my new blue jeans
My sweetheart is a drunkard, Lord God
He drank down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a drunkard ever needs
Is his suitcase and his trunk
The only time he’s ever satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Well, he fills his glass
Up to the brim
He passes it all around
And the only pleasure he ever gets out alive
Is ?? from town to town
Go and tell my baby sister
Not to do like I have done
And spend her life in sin and misery
In the house called the Rising Sun
I've got one foot on the platform
Got the other on a train
I'm going back down to New Orleans
To wear that ol' ball and chain
Now my life is almost over
I guess my race is nailed at once
I'm-a going back to spend the rest of my days
In the house called the Rising Sun