HOUSE OF THE RISIN SUN
(Traditional, Arranged by Bob Dylan)
1978 Music Corporation of America, Inc

There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the risin sun.
Its been the ruin of many a poor girl
And me, oh God, Im one.

My mother was a tailor
She sewed these new blue jeans
My sweetheart was a gambler
Down in New Orleans.

Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time hes satisfied
Is when hes on a drunk.

Hell fill his glasses up to the brim
And hell  pass the cards around
And the only pleasure he gets out of life
Is ramblin from town to town.

Oh tell my baby sister
Not to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans
They call the risin sun.

And its one foot on the platform
And the other foot on the train
Im goin back to New Orleans
To wear my ball and chain.

Im going back to New Orleans
My race is almost run
Im goin back to end my life
Down in the risin sun.

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the risin sun.
Its been the ruin of many a poor girl
And me, oh God, Im one.