City Of New Orleans Lyrics - Live: American Outlaws - The Highwaymen

Ridin' on the City of New Orleans 

Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail 

15 cars and 15 restless riders 

Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail 

All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee 

Rolls along past houses, farms & fields 

Passin' graves that have no name, freight yards full of old black men 

And the graveyards of rusted automobiles 

Good mornin' America, how are you? 

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 

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Dealin' cards with the old men in the club car 

Penny a point, ain't no one keepin' score 

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle 

And feel the wheels grumblin' neath the floor 

And the sons of Pullman porters & the sons of engineers 

Ride their fathers' 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 

Night time on the City of New Orleans 

Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee 

Halfway home, we'll be there by mornin' 

Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea 

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But all the towns & people seem to fade into a bad dream 

And the steel rail still ain't heard the news 

The conductor sings his song again 

"The passengers will please refrain, 

This train has got the disappearin' railroad blues