City Of New Orleans Lyrics - Hank Snow

Riding on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail 

Fisteen cars and fifteen restless riders 

Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail 

All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee 

And moves along past houses farms and fields 

Passing trains that have no name and freighyards full of old black men 

And the graveyards full of rusted automobiles 

Good morning America how are ya 

Say don't you know me I'm your native son 

I'm a train they call the City of New Orleans 

I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done 

Dealing card games with an old man on the club car 

Many a point and no one keeping score 

Pass that paper bag that holds the bottle 

Feel the wheels a rumbling neath the floor 

And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineers 

Ride their father's magic carpet made of steel 

Mothers with their babes asleep rocking to that gentle beat 

And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel 

Good morning America... 

Night time on the City of New Orleans changing cars in Memphis Tennessee 

Half way home and we'll get there by morning 

Through the Mississippi darkness rolling 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 song again the passengers will please refrain 

This train's got the disappearing railroad blues 

Good morning America...