Riding on the City of New Orleans 

Illinois Central Monday morning rail 

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders 

Three conductors and thenty-five sacks of mail 

All along the south bound odyssey, the train pulls out of Kenkakee

Rolls along past houses farms and fields 

Passing trains that have no name, freight yards full of old black men 

And the graveyards of rusted automobiles 

Refrain) 

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 

Strophe) 

Dealing card games with the old men in the club car 

Penny a point ain´t no one keeping score 

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle 

Feel the wheels rumbling neath the floor 

And the sons pf Pullman porters and the sons of engineers 

Ride their father´s magic carpets made of steel 

Mothers with their babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat 

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel 

Refrain) 

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 

Strophe) 

Nightime on the City of New Orleans

Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee 

Half way 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 traiin got the disappearing railroad blues 

Refrain) 

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