HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN

There is a house in New Orleans They call the rising sun It's been the ruin for many a poor girl, and me, oh Lord, I'm one My mother was a taylor, she sewed our new blue jeans My father was a gambling man, down in New Orleans If I had listened to what my mother said I'd have been at home today But I was young and foolish, oh, God, let a rambler lead me astray Oh Mothers, tell your children not to do what I have done To spend their lives in sin and misery In the house of the rising sun I'm going back to New Orleans, my race is almost run I'm going back to spend my life beneath the rising sun