There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of a many poor boy
And me, oh God , for one
verse 2
Then fill the glasses to the brim
Let the drinks go merrily around
And we'll drink to the health of a rounder poor boy
Who goes from town to town
verse 3
The only thing that a rounder needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Instrumental
verse 4
Now boys don't believe what a girl tells you
Though her eyes be blue or brown
Unless she's on some scaffold high
Saying "Boys, I can't come down."
Verse 5
Not to do the things I've done
But to shun that house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
Instrumental
Verse 6
I'm going back, back to New Orleans
For my race is nearly run
Gonna spend the rest of my wicked life
Beneath that Rising Sun