Lyrics - City Of New Orleans by Guthrie Arlo

Name
CITY
OF
NEW
ORLEANSInterpret
Arlo
Guthrie
Jahr <1970
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 of
Kankakee,rollin' along past houses, farms and fields.
Passin' towns that have no name,freight yards full of old black men,and the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.
Good morning,
America.
How are you?
Don't you know me,
I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call the
City of
New
Orleansand
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car
Penny a point, no one keepin' score.
Pass the paper bag, that holds the bottle.
You can feel the wheels, rumblin' 'neath the floor.
And the sons of
Pullman porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their
Father's magic carpet made of steel,
Mothers sing their babes to sleeprocking to the gentle beatand the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.
Good morning,
America ...
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 down to the sea.
But all the towns and people seemto fade into a bad dream,the steel rail still ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again,the passengers will please refrain.
This train's got the disappearin' railroad blues.
Good night,
America ...

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