|   |    |    |    | |   |    |   |  There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God, I know I'm one        |    |    |    | |  |   |   |  My mother was a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans        |    |    |   | |  |   |   |  Now the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk And the only time he'll be satisfied Is when he's all drunk        |    |    |   | |  |   |   |   | |  |    |    |   | |  |    |   |   | |  |    |    |   | |  |   |   |    | |   |   |   |   | |  Oh, mother, tell your children Not to do what I have done Spend your lives in sin and misery In the House of the Rising Sun        |    |    |   | |  |   |   |  Well, I got one foot on the platform The other foot on the train I'm goin' back to New Orleans To wear that ball and chain        |    |    |   | |  |   |   | Well, there is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun      And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God, I know I'm one        |    |    |   | |  |   |   | |  |   |   |   |  (x2) |  |   |