| C#m | E | F# | A | There | is a | house in | New Or | leans, |
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| C#m | E | Ab | Ab | They | call the | Rising | Sun, | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | And it's | been the | ruin of | many a poor | boy, |
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| C#m | Ab | C#m | E | F# | A | C#m | Ab | C#m | Ab | And | God, I | know I'm | one. | | | , | | | | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | My | mother | was a | tailor, | |
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| C#m | E | Ab | Ab | She | sewed my | new blue | jeans. | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | My | father | was a | gambling | man, |
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| C#m | Ab | C#m | E | F# | A | C#m | Ab | C#m | Ab | | Down in | New Or | leans. | | | , | | | | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | And the | only | thing a | gambler | needs, |
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| C#m | E | Ab | Ab | Is a | suitcase | and a | trunk, | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | And the | only | time he's | satis | fied, |
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| C#m | Ab | C#m | E | F# | A | C#m | Ab | C#m | Ab | Is | when he's | all a- | drunk. | | | , | | | | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | I've | got one | foot on the | platform, | |
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| C#m | E | Ab | Ab | The | other foot | on the | train. | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | I'm | going | back to | New Or | leans, |
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| C#m | Ab | C#m | E | F# | A | C#m | Ab | C#m | Ab | To | wear the | ball and | chain. | | | , | | | | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | So | mothers, | tell your | children, | |
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| C#m | E | Ab | Ab | Not to | do what | I have | done. | |
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| C#m | E | F# | A | Spend your | life in | sin and | misery, | |
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| C#m | Ab | C#m | E | F# | A | C#m | Ab | C#m | Ab | In the | House of the | Rising | Sun. | | | , | | | | |
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There is a house in New Orleans |
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They call the Rising Sun. |
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It's been the ruin of many a poor girl, |
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If I had listened what Mamma said, |
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I'd 'a' been at home today. |
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Being so young and foolish, poor boy, |
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let a rambler lead me astray. |
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never do like I have done |
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to shun that house in New Orleans |
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they call the Rising Sun. |
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My mother she's a tailor; |
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she sold those new blue jeans. |
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My sweetheart, he's a drunkard, Lord, Lord, |
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drinks down in New Orleans. |
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The only thing a drunkard needs |
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is a suitcase and a trunk. |
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The only time he's satisfied |
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Fills his glasses to the brim, |
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only pleasure he gets out of life |
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is hoboin' from town to town. |
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One foot is on the platform |
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and the other one on the train. |
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I'm going back to New Orleans |
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to wear that ball and chain. |
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Going back to New Orleans, |
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Going back to spend the rest of my days |
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