Doc Watson. House of the Rising Sun

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There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the 'Rising Sun'
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And me, oh god I'm one

Mama, she worked for a tailor man
She sewed all my new blue jeans
And my daddy was a gambling man
In the town of old New Orleans

(Shuffle them cards, Richard)

Instrumental bridge
The only thing that a rounder ever needs
Is a suitcase or a trunk
And the only time he's ever satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk

Boys fill up your glasses
Right to the brim
Let the drinks flow merrily round

Well, drink to the health
Of a rounder, poor boy
Who rambles from town to town

Now fellows don't believe
What a bad woman tells you
Though her eyes be blue or brown
Unless she's standing on some old scaffold high
Saying, "Fellows, they won't let me come down"

Instrumental bridge
Go tell my youngest brother
Not to do the awful things that I've done
And to shun that old house down in New Orleans
That they call the rising sun

Soon they'll take me back, down to New Orleans
To face all the crimes that I've done
Then they'll tie me to an old ball and chain
Until my earthly race is run

CUT. No tag

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Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Josh White / Libby Reynolds Holmes / Nicholas Ray / Dp
House of the Rising Sun lyrics © Leeds Music Corp.