There is a house in New Orleans
They call "The Rising Sun"
And it's been a ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know, I'm one

My mother was a tailor
She sew my new blue jeans
My father was a gambling man
Down in New Orleans

And the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time that he's satisfied
Is when he's out and drunk

Oh, mother, tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your life in sin and misery
In the house of "The Rising Sun"