House of the Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans, They call the Rising Sun. It's been the ruin of many poor girl And me, oh God, I'm one. My mother, she's a tailor, She sews those new blue jeans. My husband, he's a gamblin' man, Drinks down in New Orleans. Yes, my husband, he's a gambler, He goes from town to town And the only time he's satisfied Is when he drinks his liquor down. Go, tell my baby sister, Never do like I have done, To shun that house in New Orleans, They call the Risin' Sun. One foot's on the platform And the other's on the train. I'm going down to New Orleans To wear that ball and chain. Going back to New orleans, My race is almost run. I'm going to spend the rest of my life Beneath that Rising Sun.