[Verse]
Riding on the 'City of New Orleans',
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail,
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey, the train pulls out at Kankakee,
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields,
Passing trains that have no names, freight yards full of old black men,
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.
[Chorus]
Good morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son
I am the train they call 'The City of New Orleans',
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
[Verse]
Dealing cards with old men in the club car,
Penny a point ain't no one keeping score,
Won't you pass the paper bag that holds the bottle,
Feel the wheels rumbling neath the floor.
And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers,
Ride their fathers' magic carpets made of steel,
Mothers with their babes asleep are rocking to the gentle beat,
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.
[Chorus]
Good morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son
I am the train they call 'The City of New Orleans',
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
[Chorus]
Good morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son
I am the train they call 'The City of New Orleans',
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
[Verse]
Night-time on 'The City of New Orleans',
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee,
Half way home and we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling to the sea.
And the towns and people seem to fade into a bad, bad dream,
And the steel rails still ain't heard the news,
Their conductor sings his songs again, passengers will please refrain,
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.
[Chorus]
Good morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son
I am the train they call 'The City of New Orleans',
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
[Chorus]
Good morning, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son
I am the train they call 'The City of New Orleans',
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.