D]Riding on the [A]City of New Or[D]leans
[Bm]Illinois Central, [G]Monday morning [D]rail, [A]
[D]Fifteen cars and fi[A]fteen restless [D]riders
Three con[Bm]ductors, and t[A]wenty five sacks of [D]mail
We're all [Bm]out on the southbound odyssey
As the [F#m]train pulls out of Kankakee
And [A]rolls past the houses, farms and [E]fields
[Bm]Pa**ing towns that have no name
And [F#m]freight yards full of old black men
And the [A]graveyards of rusted automo[D]biles
{c:Chorus:}
[G]Good morning Am[A]erica, how a[D]re you?
Say [Bm]don't you know me, [G]I'm your native [D]son. [A]
I'm the [D]train they call the [A]City of New [Bm]Orleans
I'll be gon[C]e five [G]hundred miles[A] when the day is [D]done
Dealing card games with the old men in the club cars
A penny a point, there ain't no one keeping score
Won't you pa** the paper bag that holds the bottle
You can feel the wheels rumbling through the floor
And the sons of Pullman porters, And the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep
There rocking to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they dream
{Chorus.}
Midnight on the City of New Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, and we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness, rolling down to the sea
Then all the towns and people seem To fade into a bad dream
The old steel rail still ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again
The pa**engers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearin' railroad blues
{c:Chorus:}
Singin' Goodnight America, how are you?
Say don't you know me, I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done