City of New Orleans

Ridin' on the 'City of New Orleans' Illinois Central, Monday morning rail 15 cars and 15 restless riders Three conductors and 25 sacks of mail All along the southbound odyssey, the train pulled out at Kankakee It rolls along past houses, farms and fields Passing trains that have no name and freight yards full of old black men And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles Good morning America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call, 'The City of New Orleans' And I'll be gone 500 miles, the day is done Dealing cards with the old man in the club car Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle Feel the wheels rumblin' neath the floor And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel Good morning America, how are you? Say, 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 500 miles when the day is done Nighttime on the 'City of New Orleans' Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee Halfway home, we'll be there by morning Through the Mississippi darkness, rollin' down to the sea But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream And the steel rails still ain't heard the news The conductor sings his songs again, the passengers will please refrain This train has got the disappearing railroad blues Good morning America, how are you? Say, 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 500 miles when the day is done