Hank Snow
The City of New Orleans
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail15 cars and 15 restless riders 3 conductors and 24 sacks of mailAll along the southbound odyssey the train rolls out of KankakeeAnd moves along past houses farms and fieldsPassin' trains that have no name and switchyards full of old black menOf graveyards full of rusted automobilesGood mornin' America how are you say don't ya know me I'm your native sonI'm a train they call the City of New OrleansI'll be gone 500 miles when the day is doneDealin' cards with an old man on the club car many a point nobody's keepin' scoreHey now pass that paper bag that holds the bottleAnd feel the wheels a rumblin' neath the floorAnd the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineersRide their daddy's magic carpet made of steelMothers with their babies asleep rockin' to that gentle beatAnd the rhythm of the rails is all they feelNight time on the City of New Orleans changin' cars in Memphis TennesseeHalf way home and we'll be there by mornin'Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the seaAnd all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dreamAnd the steel rails still ain't heard the newsThe conductor sings his song again the passengers will please refrainThis train's got the disappearin' railroad blues
From Letras Mania