af Procul Harum
There is a house in New Orleans
it's called the risin'sun
it's been the ruin of many - a poor boy
and me - Oh lord - was one.
My mother was a tailor
she sews those new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin' man
down in New Orleans
If I had a - listened to what my mama said
I'd been at home to day
"Stay away from that house in New Orleans
don't let a gambler lead you astray"
Go tell my baby brother
not to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans
they call the risin' sun
With one foot on the platform
and the other on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans
to wear my ball and chain
I'm going back to New Orleans
my race is almost run
I'm going back to spend my life
beneath that risin' sun.