There is a house in new orleans
they call the rising sun
and it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
and god i know i'm one
My mother was a tailor
she sewed my new bluejeans
my father was a gamblin' man
down in new orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
is a suitcase and a trunk
and the only time he's satisfied
is when he's on a drunk
Oh mother tell your children
not to do what i have done
spend your lives in sin and misery
in the house of the rising sun

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