Norton -

Here's how I've always done it...

- Al

The City of New Orleans
by Steve Goodman

[C]Ridin' on the [G]City of New [C]Orleans,
Illinois Central, [F]Monday mornin' [C]Rail
Fifteen cars and [G]Fifteen restless [C]Riders
Three con[Am]ductors, [G]Twenty-five sacks of [C]mail
All a[Am]long the southbound odyssey
[Em]Trains pull out of Kankakee
[G]Rolls along past houses, farms and [D]fields.
[Am]Passin' trains that have no names,
[Em]Freight yards full of old black men
And the [G]graveyards of the [F]rusted automo[C]biles.

CHORUS:
[F]Good morning A[G]merica how [C]are you?
[Am]Don't you know me [F]I'm your native [C]son, [G]
I'm the [C]train they call The [G]City of New [Am]Orleans,
I'll be [Bb]gone five [Am]hundred [G]miles
when the day is [C]done.

Dealin' card games 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
Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor.
And the sons of pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel.
Mothers with their babes asleep,
Are rockin' to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.

CHORUS

Nighttime on The City of New Orleans,
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.
Half way home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling down to the sea.
And 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 night, 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 five hundred miles when the day is done.

©1970, 1971 EMI U Catalogue, Inc and Turnpike Tom Music (ASCAP)