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Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail 15 cars & 15 restless riders Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee Rolls along past houses, farms & fields Passin' trains that have no name, freight yards full of old black men And the graveyards of rusted automobiles Good mornin' 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 500 miles when the day is done Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle And feel the wheels grumblin' neath the floor And the sons of Pullman porters & the sons of engineers Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steel Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel Good mornin' 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 Letras de cancionesI'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done Night time on the City of New Orleans Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee Halfway home, we'll be there by mornin' Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea But all the towns & people seem to fade into a bad dream And the steel rail still ain't heard the news The conductor sings his song again "The passengers will please refrain: This train has got the disappearin' railroad blues Good mornin' 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 500 miles when the day is done From Letras Mania