City of New Orleans (Live 2004)

Riding on the City of New Orleans

Illinois Central, Monday morning rail

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders

Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail

All along the southbound odyssey

The train pulls out of Kankakee

And rolls along past houses farms and fields

Passing trains that have no name

And freight-yards full of old black men

And graveyards full of rusted automobiles

Good morning 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

And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Dealing cards with an old man in the club car

Penny a point, ain’t no one keeping score

Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle

And feel the wheels rumbling beneath 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, rocking to that gentle beat

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

Good morning 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

And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Night time on the City of New Orleans

Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee

Half way home we'll be there by morning

Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea

But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream

And the steel rails still ain't heard the news

The conductor sings his songs again

The passengers will please refrain

This train has got the disappearing railroad blues

Good morning 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

And I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done