Subject: Lyr Add: THE CITY OF NEW ORLEANS (Steve Goodman)
From:
bseed(charleskratz)
Date: 19 Mar 99 - 10:40 PM
The eerie coincidence of the deadly wreck of the City of New Orleans in Kankakee, the one named spot that the train passes through in the song.
THE CITY OF NEW ORLEANS
(Steve Goodman)
As recorded by Steve Goodman on "Steve Goodman" (1971)
1. Ridin' on the City of New Orleans,
Illinois Central, Monday mornin' rail,
There are fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.
They're all out on the southbound odyssey,
And the train pulls out o' Kankakee,
Rolls along past houses, farms, and fields,
Passin' towns that have no name,
And freight yards full of old black men,
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles.
Singin': Good mornin', America; how are you?
Sayin': Don't you know me? I'm your native son.
Yes, I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans,
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done.
2. And I was dealin' cards with the old men in the club car,
And it's penny a point; there ain't no one keepin' score.
Won't you pass that paper bag that holds that bottle?
You can feel the wheels grumblin' through the floor.
And the sons of Pullman porters, the sons of engineers,
They ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steam;
And mothers with their babes asleep go rockin' to the gentle beat,.
The rhythm of the rails is all they dream.
Just a-singin': Good mornin', America; how are you?
Sayin': Don't you know me? I'm your native son.
And I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done.
3. Night time on the City of New Orleans,
Changin' cars in Memphis, Tennessee,
It's halfway home; we'll be there by mornin',
Through the Mississippi darkness rollin' to the sea.
And all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream.
The old steel rail, it ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again.
It's "Passengers Will Please Refrain."
This train's got the disappearin' railroad blues.
Just a-singin': Good night, America; how are you?
Sayin': Don't you know me? I'm your native son.
And I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done.
Just a-singin': Good night, America; how are you?
Sayin': Don't you know me? I'm your native son.
Well, I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans,
And I'll be gone a long, long time when day is done.
--seed
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sj
