| There is a house in New Orleans
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| They call the risin' sun
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| And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me
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| Oh god, I'm one.
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| My mother was a tailor
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| She sowed these new blue jeans
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| My sweetheart was a gambler, lord
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| Down in New Orleans
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| Now the only thing a gambler needs
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| Is a suitcase and a trunk
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| And the only time he's satisfied
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| Is when he's on a drunk
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| He fills his glasses up to the brim
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| And he'll pass the cards around
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| And the only pleasure he gets out of life
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| Is ramblin' from town to town
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| Oh tell my baby sister,
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| Not to do what I have done
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| But shun that house in New Orleans,
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| They call the rising sun
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| Well, now one foot on the platform
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| And the other foot on the train
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| I'm goin' back to New Orleans
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| To wear that ball and chain
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| I'm goin' back to New Orleans
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| My race is almost run
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| I'm goin' back to end my life
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| Down in the risin' sun
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| Well, there is a house in New Orleans
|
| They call the risin' sun
|
| It's been the ruin of many poor girl and me
|
| And god, I know, I'm one. |