Rising Sun Lyrics - Roy Acuff

There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun 

It's been the ruin of many poor boy and me, oh, Lord poor one 

Go to tell my youngest brother, not to do as I have done 

Who shunned that house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun 

Go, fill the glasses to the brim and let the drinks go marry round 

We'll drink to the half of a rounder, poor boy who goes from town to town 

The only thing a rounder needs is a suitcase and a trunk 

The only time he is satisfied is when he's on a drunk 

So shun that house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun 

It's been the ruin of many poor boy and me, oh, Lord poor one