City Of New Orleans (Nelson Willie)

Riding on the "City of New Orleans" Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders three conductors, twenty~five sacks of mail Out on the southbound odyssey The train pulls out of Kankakee Rolling past the houses, farms and fields Passing towns that have no name The freight yards full of old black men And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles Good morning America How are ya? And Don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the "City of New Orleans" I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car Penny a point, ain't no one keeping score Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor And the sons of Pullman Forbes and the sons of engineers ride their father's magic carpets made of steel And mothers with their babes asleep a'rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rail is all they hear Good morning America How are ya? And Don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the "City of New Orleans" 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 Halfway home, we'll be there by mornin' Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea But all the towns and cities seem to fade into a bad dream And the steel rail still ain't heard the news The conductor sings his songs again The passengers will please refrain This train's got the disappearing railroad blues Good morning America How are ya? Ah, Don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the "City of New Orleans" I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done