[Verse 1] Riding on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central, Monday morning rail Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders Three conductors and twentyfive 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 freightyards full of old black men And graveyards full of rusted automobiles [Chorus] Good morning America how are you? Say, dont you know me? Im your native son Im the train they call the City of New Orleans And Ill be gone five hundred miles when the day is done [Verse 2] Dealing cards with an old man in the club car Penny a point, aint no one keeping score Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle And feel the wheels rumbling beneath the floor And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers Ride their fathers magic carpet made of steel Mothers with their babes asleep, rocking to that gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel [Chorus] Good morning America how are you? Say, dont you know me? Im your native son Im the train they call the City of New Orleans And Ill be gone five hundred miles when the day is done [Verse 3] Night time on the City of New Orleans Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee Half way home well 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 rails still aint heard the news The conductor sings his songs again The passengers will please refrain This train has got the disappearing railroad blues [Chorus] Good morning America how are you? Say, dont you know me? Im your native son Im the train they call the City of New Orleans And Ill be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
orleans, train, native, son, city